Beyond the Facade
by Penmora Zenith
Summary: There is a lot more to the story of the Phantom and Madame Giry than is portrayed. She rescues him from the Gypsies, but as their story progresses, their lives are filled with love, passion, betrayal and deceit.
1. The Gypsy Caravan

_**Antoinette, 1853**_

"Come on, Annie, we are going to be late!" I hurriedly fastened my shoes as Adelaide rushed back into the dormitories.

"Well I would not be so hurried, Adele, if you had the courtesy to not hide my shoes on me!" I indignantly replied as she stood in the doorway. She tapped her foot impatiently as she heard the laughter of the other ballet rats as they prepared for an evening outing. A new Gypsy caravan had stopped on the outskirts of the city, and the only reason I could assume we were even attending such a disgraceful attraction was to witness the complex dancing techniques of some of the performers.

"You have lost your sense of fun, Annie, you take everything way too seriously. You are as uptight as Monsieur Perrot, it is little wonder then that you are his star pupil."

I had to laugh at that statement. "I think you owe me an apology for such an unfair comparison." My shoelace was tied, and I bounded out the door in front of Adele, clomping my way down the stairs and we hopped the last available seats in the carriage.

The night was dismal, despite it being mid spring. A thick fog seemed to have enveloped the streets, and a mist swirled around us as we made our way to the outskirts of the city. It was still a fairly early hour, though many candles had been blown out for the night, and only the lights from the bars and brothels were still burning brightly, eager for any patronage. The road became bumpier and in the distance a faint bonfire could be seen. There were other carriages belonging to the opera house, and the rest of the corps was awaiting our arrival.

The sound of the music was eerily haunting, and as we passed through the canvas entrance of the tent, I couldn't help but shiver at the spectacle surrounding us. A rather robust man with long, coarse black hair and wide, peering brown eyes led us through the showcases. "I am Javert, and I will lead you through this magical world of wonder. Everyone here will amaze you, but should you become frightened my little dears, stay close by me." A sinister smile crossed his features, and I noticed Monsieur Perrot delivered him a scathing glare. Adele and I exchanged worried glances and chose to stay behind the rest of the crowd.

Gravel crunched underfoot as we plodded through the myriad of displays, both entertaining and moderately disturbing. There was a grossly obese woman with scraggly blonde facial hair, and she laughed heartily at the contorted faces of the younger ballerinas as they gasped in disgust. We then passed through to the exhibit that showcased a beautiful young Gypsy dancer engaging in maneuvers that would break our bones if we even attempted such contorting positions. Monsieur Perrot marveled at her skill as the girl bent backwards, balanced herself on her arms and positioned her legs in a split position in the air. Although the ballet rats were enthralled by the display, they inwardly groaned at the prospect of the ballet master having them attempt these same stunts.

"And now for the most spectacular attraction of all, "Javert exclaimed. "Our own little Don Juan, come, come and see the Devil's Child!" He pulled back the flap and we entered a small room with a cage and a little boy inside. My heart sank at the image of him sitting there, a burlap sack over his head, and playing with a roughly sewn toy monkey. He raised his head in my direction, and through the small slits cut in the fabric, he looked at me through pained blue eyes. As I reached my hand outwards toward him, Javert entered the cell and pushing him to the ground, he proceeded to beat the defenseless boy with a stick. Paralyzed with fear, the boy made no attempt to stop the dirty Gypsy from removing his hood. Adele jumped upon viewing the boy's face and hid her face in my shoulder.

"Annie, how can you even stand the sight of him, he doesn't even have a face!" But I couldn't peel my eyes away from the scene before me. It was cruel to expose a deformed child to such public humiliation and gain money from their misfortune. The boy's matted hair hung in dark clumps around his face, but Javert pulled it away to reveal the half of his face that appeared as though it were eaten by an infection. His right eye was sunken in, and layers of interconnecting tissue were visibly present. The boy broke away from his owner's grasp, yanked the sack back on his head, and sat dejectedly against the side of his prison. Some of our entourage threw coins and as we exited, I am unsure why, maybe in an effort to show him that someone cared, I glanced back at him once more. I knew what was going to happen as I saw the boy crawl over the length of rope attached to the bars of the cage. Javert was unaware of what fate was to shortly befall him as he greedily counted the coins that were strewn across the ground. I gaped in horror as I watched the length of the rope coil around the fleshy neck of the greedy captor and pull tightly. He dropped the coins and flailed helplessly as his eyes bulged out until at last he lay still. The boy rose to his feet, grabbing his cymbal playing monkey, and wordlessly, I opened the door to his cell. We managed to escape the gendarmes before they bombarded the place, and by way of the overgrown fields, made our way back to the opera house. Though he gripped my hand the entire journey back, we didn't say a word to each until we were walled within the safe confines of the opera house.

I opened the gated window to the chapel to allow him entrance, and so as not to get caught together, I entered through a separate opening. When I joined with him again, I saw him sitting reverently, holding his beloved monkey, in front of a mosaic of the Holy Mother. He pointed to the lapis lazuli image of her and asked, "Who made this?"

I was surprised at the graceful sound of his voice. It was enticing, almost melodic, and I knew he couldn't be much older than thirteen. He wore tattered rags with strips of cloth posing as shoes, and his head was still covered by the burlap sack. I felt sorry for this poor creature, subjected to the worst of humanity.

"Are you familiar with the teachings of Catholicism? She is the Virgin Mary, mother of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ," I replied quietly. "You are in the chapel of the Garnier Opera house, so I would assume that either one of his workers made it, or perhaps it was donated by a wealthy philanthropist."

"It is a truly stunning piece of art, something that I have not seen in a long time," he replied sadly.

"How did you become ensnared with Javert and everyone in the carnival?"

"When I was nine, I ran away from home because I was tired of the ill treatment and neglect I received from my mother. When I went in search of food, the Gypsies captured me, and I have been held captive in their encampment for a long time."

"How old are you?" I asked.

"Around twelve, I think."

"Do you have a name?"

"Erik."

"I am Antoinette."

_**Erik**_

"_I have just killed a man!"_ I thought to myself as I cast my gaze down to the bloated corpse at my feet. He would no longer kidnap and torture poor innocent children, for which I was glad, but as I heard the shouts of approaching police, I quickly darted for the exit from the cage. To my surprise, the same sorrow young girl that seemed to actually have pity for me was standing there holding the door open for me, and I only had the chance to grab my raggedy monkey before she yanked me violently from the prison. She pulled open the striped canvas flap and ushered me through, nervously looking back every few seconds. My legs ached from their sudden unexpected exercise and it was difficult to keep up with her long and fast strides. I could see that we were very close to a city which I assumed was Paris, and we hurriedly made our way through the thick shrubbery that provided us some cover. I never asked where we were going, but somehow I knew that I would be safe with this beautiful innocent girl.

The ground texture changed to cobbled streets, and I was very tired by the time we made it to a looming yet opulent structure. She pulled open a gated window and told me to wait inside, that she would be in momentarily. I still had the sack over my eyes and was unable to see much of anything, especially since it was almost completely dark, though I could make out a graceful decoupage that was illuminated by watery reflective waves. I tentatively approached it and traced my dirty fingertips over the cool smooth surface. I had always wanted to build such fine buildings filled with elegance and grandeur, and I thought a church or concert hall might be the best place to combine my architectural and musical talents.

It was then that the girl reappeared behind me. I inquired as to who made the mosaic which, which seemed to startle her, but she said she didn't know for sure, and told me that I was in the chapel of the Paris Opera House.

"Are you familiar with the teachings of Catholicism?" she asked, but I remained quiet. I supposed that deep in my heart I believed in God and with the Christian religion, but I could not understand why He would create such sadness, despair and cruelty for His children. I was but an innocent boy, shunned from birth, guilty of that sinless crime of being ugly.

The girl sat patiently as I told her briefly of how I had run away from home and been captured by the Gypsies and forced to perform in their horrid spectacle. She listened empathetically and for the first time in three years, I actually experienced sincere emotion from another human being.

"Do you have a name?" she asked finally.

"Erik," I said simply.

"I am Antoinette."

"So Antoinette is the name of this wonderful angel who rescued me?" I said. I smiled shyly, and it was the first happy emotion that I felt since before I had left my home. I couldn't quite tell in the darkness, but I think she blushed, and I wish it were light enough so that I could see her full pale cheeks turn pink with color.

"I must get you back upstairs to your new room," she said after an awkward second of silence.

"Room? You mean I am not staying here?"

"No, you are more likely to be seen down here, we have mass tomorrow morning. There is a hallway that has been rarely used since they've reduced the number of principal singers, and though the rooms are dusty I am sure, they will have better comforts than the floor of a chapel," she explained.

Antoinette led me up the narrow stone staircase and pointed in the directions of where various places of importance were located. "Straight ahead is how you would get to the stage, to the left is the staircase that leads to the upper floors, and to the right is the direction of the managers' offices." She took the left hallway, and then made another sharp right which took us to yet another long corridor, although it appeared pretty neglected. The wallpaper was stripping in some parts above cracked pieces of wainscoting and only a few of the sconces were lit. She produced a tiny brass key from her pocket, and glancing around quickly, she unlocked the door and opened it. I was now grateful that I had a sack over my head because Antoinette immediately started coughing as a rush of dust and stale air swept out of the room.

"Will you be able to withstand it in here, Erik?" she asked. I reminded her that I had lived with animals and slept not ten feet away from a pit of raw sewage, and she apologized.

"I'm terribly sorry, I sometimes forget myself."

There was no longer a bed in the room, but she left a few times and came back with some blankets, and even some bread and water. "I'm sorry I can't do better right now, but everyone will think something suspicious if I don't' return to the dormitory right away. I will come see you tomorrow, Erik, but remember to stay hidden. There is a meddling young stagehand named Joseph Buquet, and I don't want you to get into any trouble with him." She wished me goodnight, and closed the door gently behind her. She had brought a few other necessities like candles and matches, but as I looked through the discarded vanity, I found an old used bar of soap that was still fairly good, a washbasin, and an old handkerchief which I could use in the meantime as a scrubbing cloth. I was still dirty and sure that I must smell, so I quickly ate and used some of the water and soap to do a preliminary body washing. It was good to be clean at last, but I knew that it would take a while for me to get rid of the dirt and grime was left behind, not to mention I was sorely in need of a hair cut.

I took one of Antoinette's blankets and bunched it up to lay my head on, and I spread the other one on top of me to keep me warm. I had slept with the monkey in my arms every night since I had finished creating her from old torn potato sacks, and tonight would be no different, except that we finally felt safe.


	2. Artistic Domain

_I was researching famous operas during this time period, and found surprisingly that_ Giselle _was the last great romantic ballet performed, and the title role was played by a primaballerina named Carlotta Grisi. I found this to be way too much of an opportunity to pass up, however I will admit that the time periods don't_ _coincide (_Giselle _was performed in 1841, and my story takes place, at this point in time, in 1834). The real Carlotta's age doesn't match with the age of Carlotta in my story, so I had to take some creative license to fit._

_I would also like to point out that AgentSculder uses the same opera in her_ _story Contact, and that_ _she used it first. We have two totally different stories with different ideas, so please don't accuse me of stealing her idea, but DO check out her story because it is really good._

* * *

**_Antoinette_**

"Annie, where have you been!" Adele shouted. "The carriage waited for you last night, but after that monster escaped and all of the police came, we had to leave." I feigned ignorance, and Adele enthusiastically told the story of how Erik escaped, embellishing quite drastically in some parts. "The boy brandished a hidden rusty dagger at all the other circus folks before he took a Gypsy girl hostage and ran away with her."

"Adele, you are the worst liar in the world. How would you acquire this knowledge so soon after coming back to the opera house, we were there only a few hours ago." The crestfallen expression on Adele's face was the only explanation she needed.

I had secretly brought some bread, water and extra blankets to Erik's temporary shelter, a seldom-used spare dressing room. The room was only occupied when there were many leading or supporting cast members, though such a show had not been cast for quite some time.

"Where were you so that you could not make it back to the carriage in time, anyway?" Adele asked quizzically.

Panic suddenly set in as I struggled to think of an excuse for my noticeable absence. "I was exiting the tent just as the boy broke free, so I ran away as far as I could get, not thinking to go back to the carriages. I walked from the carnival back here to the opera house. I am exhausted." She queerly eyed me, and yawning I tugged off my dress, preparing for bed.

"You are acting really strange, Annie. Were you involved in that debacle with the monster boy?"

"Will you stop calling him that! You are being ridiculous with all of your fanciful tales! He is just a boy, a poor deformed boy that is picked on, and it is people like you that add to his misery! Leave him alone, if he escaped then all for the better, at least he has the potential for a better life now." I pulled on my nightdress and climbed underneath the scratchy wool covers, pulling the pillow over my head.

Before I fell into a dreamless slumber, I heard Adele mutter, "You are being awfully protective, and I hope you know that I will get to the bottom of this mystery."

The next day we had rehearsals for the opera's upcoming production of _Giselle _I thought it was ironic that Adele would refer to me as Monsieur Perrot's favorite pupil when it clearly was Carlotta Grisi. She was still very young, only fifteen, but it was through her relations with the ballet master that she earned the coveted role. Cast as Myrtha, I was the secondary dancer, but I knew it was only a matter of time before I filled her shoes. Besides, I did not have to sleep with the ballet master to get ahead in the corps de ballet; I had actual talent compared to that arrogant Italian twit. The four principle dancers practiced their routine, and then Carlotta "worked" separately with Monsieur Perrot for the remainder of the afternoon. Although in excellent physical shape, I left the practice feeling sore after a poor night's sleep and from the grueling pace of the dance steps.

I headed back to the dormitories and as I was unlacing my slippers, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Spinning around, I gasped when I saw that Erik was standing behind me, a pretty little daisy in his fingertips. I pressed a hand to my fluttering heart, and he smiled shyly.

"I found it in one of the dressing rooms, and I thought you might like it. It's a delicate beauty like you, Annie."

I was both surprised and a little timid at his remark. It looked like it was starting to wilt around a few of the petals, but I was sincerely flattered by the gesture nonetheless. I then realized that it was not safe for him to be in the dormitories, especially if any of the gossiping ninnies were soon to return.

"Erik, I appreciate you coming to see me, but you must not meet me here again, someone could see you."

He shrugged. "I've been wandering around this place all day and no one has caught on to my presence. It is so big and everyone is busy, they hardly have time to notice a little monster running around."

"You are not a monster and I never want to hear those words from you again! I promise that I will always look after you, Erik, and that you need not worry about everyone else. But sooner or later we will have to find another home for you in the opera house because that dressing room is to close to where everyone else resides. We will have to find another place for you."

"But that room is comfortable, it is a palace compared to what I have known." He looked downtrodden, and I felt a pang of sadness at the recollection of the dirty cage where I had found him.

"I know, but I do not want to risk anyone seeing you and sending you back to the Gypsies. We can worry about that later, for now I have to clean you up." I gathered my grooming kit and we made our way back down to Erik's temporary residence. He had already bathed, so it was just a matter of trimming his long scraggly hair. I ordered him to wet it down first, and then I made work of trimming the thick mahogany strands, quickly making a small pile on the floor at Erik's feet. I was done at last, and as he shook the few remaining pieces from his hair, I noticed that it was quite presentable now, especially since it was wet and slicked back. I offered him the portable mirror so that he could see himself, but without his mask he refused to see his appearance in the mirror.

"Do you really feel more comfortable with the mask? I can make you one, but I want you to know that I do not mind your appearance without it."

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "The Gypsies took my mask when the first imprisoned me, I want it back!" His eyes were starting to tear up, and I promised that I would get to work on one.

_**Erik **_

Upon awakening and bathing, I soon found that there was very little in my new room that would adequately occupy my time, and thus I was forced to disobey Antoinette's strict order not to wander about the opera house. I had become very adept from my earliest childhood at remaining silent when necessary, and thus I was easily concealed from prying eyes when I climbed and explored my way through the various levels of the building. I knew it would take me a long time to get to everywhere, especially the forgotten ones that yielded secrets, but for now I was just content to go on observing the comings and goings of the workers that resided here.

The costume department held little interest for me as it consisted of eight women who sewed, fixed, stitched, dyed, pressed and steamed the costumes. I even heard one young lady complaining about getting one of those "new-fangled sewing machines" that the military had.

The scene shop held some appeal for me as the wood carvers and painters labored endlessly to craft the props, furniture and other adornments that would be used for the next production. The painters were working on the flat backdrops and scrims, which included a garden scene and a country village. Later in the day I took a walk down to the prop storage room, and upon seeing a comfortable-looking chaise lounge, I tried to come up with some way to sneak it up the narrow staircase, down the halls and into my room. I figured that there would be no feasible way unless to transport the furniture unless I sought refuge in a more secluded area of the opera house, and that would require more time to examine the theatre.

It was a few days later that I overheard Simon Buquet speaking with his younger brother Joseph of the underground lake far below the opera house.

"It is in the fifth cellar and it balances out the weight of the stage, but you mustn't go down there," Simon warned.

"Why not?" whined the ten-year-old Joseph.

"Because there is a terrible monster that lurks down there! There is a trap door that will give you access, but then he will trick you and lock it so you will be trapped down there forever!"

"That's not true!"

"Oh, well just you wait and see." He mussed up his pouty brother's hair and left Joseph sulking alone. But it gave me a very interesting idea.

I made my way carefully down to the fourth cellar that granted access to the fifth. Sure enough, I found the heavy wooden door and pulled it open to reveal a metal ladder than led into vast black nothingness. I could vaguely make out ripples in the water, but I could see why none of the other stagehands would want to come down here and have to check the canals. But then how could boats get in here and sweep the canals to check for structural safety? There had to be other entrances somewhere! I stayed up for a full day and a half just looking for another way underground, and oddly enough, it was located near the stables. There was a carved open archway with old faded tapestries from shows of long ago, and upon peering over the side, I saw what seemed like miles of stone steps that just led downward. I ran down them, not realizing what a terrible walk it would be to go back up, and found myself at the bottom of the stairs, on the shore of a lake.

_**Antoinette **_

I had finished the mask a few weeks later, a half mask fashioned out of gray leather taken from the costume shop, and presented it to Erik. He was pleased, and though it was not very snug fitting, he seemed pleased to have something on his face again. He then informed me that he had found a new place to make his home.

"It is perfect, Annie, it is solitary so that no one will find me, quiet so that I will not be disrupted, and it is near water!"

"Erik, I told you to stay in the Opera House!"

"It is, Annie, it is _below_ the Opera House! In the basements on the other side of the lake!"

"How did you find such a place? How did you get across the lake without a boat?"

"I found an old prop and dragged it down to the basement. There is a shore on the other side, and I have already started to bring down some things. I have some ideas in my head of what I would like to do with it."

"You talk as though you are going to fashion it into a little house," I laughed. "Will it come with tapestries and elaborate decorations?"

He looked at me very seriously, and I felt a little embarrassed at my remark. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I will acquire such fineries in time that everyone will be jealous of my little house by the lake. Do you have lakefront property? No, therefore you should not mock my home."

We made our way down to where the old boat was docked. It looked like it could spring a leak at any moment, but he seemed quite certain of the stability. He picked up the heavy wooden oar as I seated myself, and rowed for what seemed like hours to the opposite end of the lake. I had forgotten that this place existed, but it was beautiful as we went through different channels until finally arriving at the location he had described. There was nothing but a vast rocky shoreline and a few of Erik's belongings were scattered along the rocks. He helped me out of the boat, and gesticulated where each room was to be. There were two different levels to the home: a flat level that was where the water ended, and on one side it sloped upward to another flat surface. The rock was too slippery for me to climb up in my shoes, but Erik made light work of scrabbling up the side and standing proudly on his domain.

"You certainly have an imagination for all that you plan on doing to this place," I stated, glancing around the vast water-filled cavern.

"I will plan many great things from here, just you wait and see. Someday I will own this Opera House."


	3. The Prima Ballerina

**_Antoinette _**

Each week, Erik left a single daisy for me sometime after rehearsal. After working so closely with the squawking idiot Carlotta, I would usually return to the dormitories in a foul mood, though my demeanor would brighten considerably when I would find my little daisy sitting in a glass of water on my nightstand. I knew it would be too suspicious if I spent every evening with Erik, though I would venture to the fifth cellar on occasion to give him the necessary supplies. Each time I plodded my way through the tunnels, I found that more progress was completed on the little nook of his home, and that he took great pride in his craftsmanship. He started to chisel out a set of stairs to the upper veranda of his home, and he was also chipping away at the rock to make the surface smoother. His pallet and blankets were set in the middle, and propped neatly against one wall were the few random books I was able to procure. Although still very rugged, he had managed to fashion some charm out of his hideaway.

"I have great plans for my home, Annie," he would say enthusiastically, and spare no details when reciting the anticipated layout of his home. He would agonize for hours over what room was to be his library, where his bedroom would be situated, and so forth. Over time I grew fond of the time that we shared together, though I had to keep a watchful eye because I knew that Adele, Carlotta or any other member of the corps de ballet would love some tantalizing scandal of this nature.

Apparently the lack of my meager presence was noticed because Adele confidently strolled up to me one day as though she had the most shameful knowledge of me to hang over my head. "Well hello, Annie, it is such a surprise to see you here," she gloated sinfully.

"What are you talking about, you see me all the time."

"Where do you spend your time when you are not dancing or in the dormitories? Has the prude Antoinette de Bontecou taken a lover?" Her eyes lit up at the prospect, but my face betrayed no emotion to possibly indict me of her accusation.

"Adele, I have no time to take a lover, even if I had wanted to," I sighed. "Besides, what business is it of yours as to where I chose to spend my free time. I have found other avenues to cure my boredom, and they are neither illicit nor illegal, so save your romance and gossip stories for another girl." I turned on my heel to walk away, but she stepped in the path to the door.

"I think I know what is behind all of this. I see you travel down to the cellars below the opera house. There must be a secret down there, and I know you have been acting strange since that freak escaped from that circus a few months ago. You are hiding him down there, that is why you are so defensive!" She nearly squeaked with delight at such a possible occurrence. "You are secreting him away from the world, like Judge Frolo in_The Hunchback of Notre Dame!"_

"Theatre is the perfect career for you, Adele, because you are just so damn dramatic!" and with that, I pushed her out of my way.

* * *

"Antoinette, you stupid stupid fool, are you not capable of getting out of my way when I am dancing!" Carlotta shrieked as I nearly twirled right into her.

"Your presence takes up the entire stage, and I mean more than just your ego. It is quite difficult to navigate around you," I hissed.

"How _dare_ you speak to me that way! I am, La Carlotta, the Prima Ballerina of this opera house, and I will have no one, _least of all you_, dictating orders to me in such a fashion! Monsier Perrot! _Jean_! Tell her she must behave!" As though the presence of the young pretentious Italian was not bad enough, when she was angry, she made working in the theatre positively miserable.

"Mademoiselle de Bontecou, please mind your manners, we work in an opera house, not a catty brothel," Monsieur Perrot chided. "Dancers, please take your places at the beginning of Act III." And from there the rehearsal continued uneventfully, aside from the periodic glares and smirks from Carlotta.

As I was packing my bag with my tutu and slung my Pointe shoes over my shoulder, Monsieur Perrot stopped me. "Mademoiselle de Bontecou, may I please have a moment of your time." I knew that I would be in trouble for my comment about Carlotta, so I reluctantly trudged to face my punishment.

"Antoinette, I understand that you and Carlotta do not get along, and I am put in a difficult situation when working with you two."

I cast my eyes downward, ready for my scolding. "Yes, Monsieur."

"I also note that you have amazing skill as a dancer, and I feel that in the next upcoming production, you should be the lead dancer. Carlotta has a…_condition _that will be preventing her from dancing in the next production, and I feel that you are the only dancer in the corps de ballet that is worthy of replacing her. She will return in time, however she will be gone for the better part of a year, and you know doubt have caught on to her, how should I say this, _increasing stature." _So _that _was it, the ballet instructor had actually gotten Carlotta with child! It was not an unusual occurrence for one of the ballet tarts to have a lover and need to leave the opera for that reason, but for it to happen to a principle dancer and the ballet master at that? Adele would die when she heard the news!

After dropping off my things in the dormitory, I rushed down to Erik's domain to inform him of the good news. It had been five months since I had rescued him from the Gypsy circus, and already he was growing into a sophisticated young man. He had discovered a disassembled pipe organ in the prop department, and instantly realizing the awesome potential that it possessed once it was put painstakingly back together. He lugged each piece down to his home by way of the boat, and spent days putting it back to the original working order. It was in need of a professional tune up, but Erik would simply get lost in concentration when lovingly stroking the ivory keys. This was the condition I found him in, and I silently crept up the stone stairway as I listened, enraptured by the glorious sound produced from his fingertips. He was clearly a musical prodigy, and would be a world renowned composer if his face were as perfect as his music, but alas, his genius was to be locked beneath the Opera Populaire, with only myself and God knows what other creatures breed down here to witness.

Erik must have caught me out of the corner of his eye, for all too suddenly the music stopped flowing and he sharply turned towards me. "What are you doing down here?" he growled uncharacteristically.

"I-I just returned from rehearsal and wanted to see you," I stammered. I had never seen him in such a rage before, and I was truly frightened.

"You should have alerted me to your presence, I was not expecting you so soon," he said quietly.

"I have some good news that I could not wait to share with you. Carlotta is going to be leaving the opera for some time, and Monsieur Perrot has asked me to take her role once she is gone. She will be playing the part of Giselle, but once the show is done I will be the prima ballerina, just I have always dreamed!"

"Annie, that is excellent!" he exclaimed, getting up from the piano bench. He came over to me and swept me off my feet in an embrace. As he set me down our eyes met, and my heart skipped a beat as I gazed straight into his beautiful blue eyes. His expression changed from elation to something softer, something more romantic, and he leaned in to kiss me sweetly, innocently, on the cheek. I was knocked out of my trance and smiled back, a little surprised at the forwardness of his gesture. "I am so proud of you, Annie," he whispered.

_**Erik **_

I was pleased to see that Annie's hard work and devotion to her trade were at last paying off. Carlotta was never as trim as the other dancers, but even I had to admit that her skill and grace were remarkable. She floated across the stage, making each Emboité and Pas de Chat appear flawless and easily executed. As I secretly watched rehearsals from the back of the theatre, I noted that her style was a little sloppy as the weight around her abdomen was becoming slightly noticeable within the tight fabric of the leotard. It was supposedly a heavily guarded secret around the theatre, but any fool could notice the telltale signs of pregnancy, not to mention the fact that the dancing diva and simple-minded ballet instructor flirted when they perceived that no one was looking.

I was always looking, at everyone and everything, as I began to know this mammoth structure as though I had built it. There were always secret locations for me to discover, even though I had been here five months already. I scoured the prop room looking for old pieces of furniture that I could restore and use in my home. The library contained mostly musical scores and books on crafts of the various aspects of the theatre, but occasionally Annie would find a book lying around, and if she did not know the owner, she would pocket it when she was sure no one would see, and it would be brought to me later in the day as a special treat.

I thoroughly enjoyed her company as it was sometimes lonesome and intimidating beneath the opera house, but I began to grow accustomed to the perpetual silence, and I realized that I really had nothing to fear. There were no people that come through this channel to verify the structural integrity of the building, so the sole disturbances I received were either from Annie or by a lonely rat that had mistakenly wandered off from the others.

I was frustrated with the slow pace of the construction of my home, but "Rome wasn't built in a day", as they say, and being a perfectionist, it would be years before I was fully satisfied with the residence. It had taken me a whole month to rebuild the prop organ that I had found, and it was only because I had labored about twenty hours each day, resting only to eat, sleep and relieve myself. It was dismantled so that it could be appropriately stored, and the worst part was transporting the heavy pieces myself and trying to prevent the gondola from tipping over from the weight. Thankfully it must've been a one-man job because there were many pieces to it, but they were all just barely light enough to be carried by one person. When at last it was assembled, I was not entirely surprised when I played it and found that it was in dire need of a good tune up, and dedicated another two weeks to tiredly tuning the pipes and internal components so that the music resonated with a pure clarity when I was finished.

Annie had been astonished that I would undertake such a difficult project, but since my heart was bleeding to play music again, and I really didn't have much better things to do, she offered to assist in any small way she could. Though muscular, her schedule did not permit her to help me carry the pieces from the shop to the cellar, but she did warn me of the times that the shop was in use, or when someone like Simon Buquet would be working in there later.

I was so wrapped up in the glorious sounds one day that I was startled to hear her say my name. She told me of her promotion to Prima Ballerina, and I was very happy for her. I kissed her innocently on the cheek, and she blushed demurely. We stared at each other for a second, feeling some sort of intense connection, but she broke the strange moment with an apology.

"It will take up a lot of my spare time, so I am sorry, Erik, but I will be unable to visit you as frequently."

"I understand, Annie, but don't worry, I have a lot to keep me busy," I replied with a smile.

"Would you ever consider having your works published? They are so beautiful, so haunting and earnest, and it is a shame to have your talent go to waste down here where only I and God can hear it."

I sat back down on the bench, listening to her words but knowing that nothing could possibly come to fruition. "I have been told so many times, by my mother's friend Marie and by Father Mansart that I could have been a great many things, from a composer to a singer to an architect, but so long as I have this hideous deformity, my joyous works of art must remain anonymous and undiscovered." She frowned because she knew it was such a cruel trick of God, and also because it was true. In this Victorian society, life was on a strictly ruled etiquette and moral conformity, and anything that did not reflect as such was considered sinful and unholy. Had my mother done something to me unintentionally as I sat in her womb? I was surprised that I had even thought to myself, that I even bothered to think questions like that anymore.

Annie had brought some food for us to share, and as we sat at my modest little table with the mismatching chairs, we dined on bread, grapes and water, and she told me the latest gossip around the opera house that I neglected to hear from working on home and organ so much. Adele was growing suspicious, Clara had acquired a new suitor, Margot had a younger sister that would soon come to train in the chorus, and she continued on with some other frivolities that I was not terribly concerned with. I filled her in on some more grand ideas that I had, and I thanked her for the latest book she had acquired, _Le neveu de Rameau_.

"I thought that Diderot had truly captured the essence of morality and hypocrisy in society," I stated matter-of-factly.

She shrugged indifferently. "I picked it up because no one else was around, but I am delighted that you found it entertaining and thought-provoking.

We finished our meal and, she politely excused herself as she was feeling tired from the grueling rehearsal. "I shall come see you later in the week," she promised before she headed up the vast staircase to her dormitory. As I stood in the gondola watching her travel up the stairs, I thought that perhaps I should find another way to create a different, easier entrance to my home.


	4. To Protect

**_Antoinette _**

Erik and I conversed more about the rehearsal and his discoveries of what life was like aboveground. I left with the promise that I would return the next evening at eight o'clock.

Upon returning to the dormitories I found Adele and a few of the other ballerinas sitting on their beds, telling stories. I could only guess that they had been talking about me at some point because they all looked at me then burst into a giggle fit amongst themselves as I stood dumbfounded in the doorway.

"I hate to intrude on the tea party, but what could possibly be so humorous about my appearance?"

"Adele tells us that you secretly rendezvous with a man underneath the opera house," mused Marie-Elisabeth, a dancer known for her attitude and sharp tongue.

"Oh did she?" I raised my eyebrow in Adele's direction and shot her a scathing look. "I believe someone here has no idea what they are talking about and should proceed to keep their mouth shut."

Adele got up from her bed at once and strode menacingly towards me. "I believe you should not be threatening me in such a manner. We all know why you get the great dancing solos, though Carlotta must be a lot better in bed than you, otherwise you would get the leading roles," she said coldly.

The other girls looked up in horror at the severity of Adele's accusation. I stared at her with pure loathing and my clenched fists shook in anger. "You know that is not true, Adele, I would never stoop that low to get a dancing role. I have worked hard for the position of Myrtha and you know it."

"Go ahead, Annie, hit me, I dare you," she taunted. "You do not have the courage to do such a thing, something that you might get in trouble for, you goody two shoes. Just go scamper down to your lover and spread your thighs for him, you let everyone else have a trick."

I desperately wanted to go back to Erik, to have a friend in this God forsaken opera house. I had no idea what had become of Adele, my closest friend and confidante. We had always been so trusting with one another, since we both joined the corps de ballet at the age of twelve. She stood up for me when I lost my ballet slippers right before a major performance, had helped me sneak a pet mouse up to the dormitories, and defended me against unwanted advances from the new stage hand, Joseph Buquet. It was when I rescued Erik from the Gypsy circus that our friendship changed, and though I do not know if my strange absence that night had anything to do with it, but I certainly would not confide in her the knowledge that he was housed in the cellars below. As I silently pondered to myself on the way to Erik's lair, I realized that she could be following me in an attempt to unravel the mystery, so instead I plodded my way to his original safe haven, the forgotten dressing room.

Although it was not very late and most everyone were still awake, I silently crept down the hall and was delighted to find the door still unlocked. I figured that it was probably because two passionate cast members had used this room as a location for their backstage tryst, but it conveniently served my purpose at the present moment.

The room was still pretty stark, though I did find a gas lamp conveniently placed upon the vanity. There was a minimal amount of fuel left, so I lit it on a lower setting to utilize what there was, and sitting on the floor with my knees pressed tightly to my chest, I began to cry. I did not understand why Adele was suddenly so cruel to me, and I wondered if being a prima ballerina was something I wished to pursue if I would be faced with nothing but ridicule and a bad reputation. I cried because I had to keep my friendship with Erik a secret for fear of him being sent to prison for murder, or killed by one of the workers here. I cherished our friendship and the time that we spent together, and I looked forward more and more to the visits that we had together, each one lengthening in duration. I found that I was enthralled by his willingness to learn, his knack for building and creating things, and the passion that he had for something that he loved so much. I again felt pool of blood rush to my cheeks at the memory of his tender kiss, and eventually fell into a dreamless slumber there on the hardwood floor.

My eyes squinted as I opened them to the dawn sunlight that poured in through the small window. I turned to find that the little gas lamp had burned out long ago, and I attempted to straighten my disheveled appearance. My muscles ached from my strange sleeping position, though at some point during the night I had laid down on my side. No doubt Adele and the other girls would gossip wildly about my lacking reappearance last night after our quarrel, but for now I was just worried about making it in one piece through the grueling rehearsal that was scheduled for today.

The rehearsal had been scheduled later than normal on account of Carlotta's unpredictable morning sickness. Actually, no one knew for sure, but that was the reason that everyone joked about before we started warm-ups. She flounced in through the double doors with a scowl on her face, and Monsieur Perrot entered right behind her, seemingly in a hurry to begin the day's work. Thankfully I did not crash into her again and by Monsieur Perrot's standards I did fairly well, though my joints were sore and I was disappointed in myself. At one point me ankle seized up during a spin, but I recovered in time before I fell down and before anyone could notice too much.

The other dancers in the ballet needed much practice so the rehearsal ran later than usual, and I was thoroughly exhausted by the time I made it back to the dormitories. I had pulled off my dirty slippers and practice tutu before collapsing face first on my bed. I must have dozed off because before I knew it, it was nine o'clock at night. I was supposed to meet Erik at eight! I hurriedly yanked on a clean dress and a pair of stockings, and raced down the jungle of stairways to Erik's little home.

I found him totally absorbed in the music he produced from the little organ that he had just finished reassembling. His fingers fluidly moved across the ivory keys, delicately touching them as though he were afraid they would break. The melody that was produced was one that I recognized from being performed by the opera a few years previous, and I could barely see the tattered book with the sheet music enfolded inside. I tentatively approached him and spoke, afraid that I might disturb him and might be subject to his horrible temper. "Hello, Erik. I am sorry that I am late, I fell asleep."

"Are you late?" he asked distractedly. "I did not notice." He brushed his pen across the piece of parchment, crossing off a note and adding one higher on the scale. I was surprised at the liberties he was taken with another man's musical work, though I knew he was not satisfied with the work until he felt it perfected to his style. He was so bold, and I admired him for that.

"Should I leave you alone? I did not realize that you were so busy with your music. I can come back tomorrow, if you like." I was silently hoping that he would not turn me away for I needed to talk to someone about Adele and the way the other girls had treated me the night previous. To my delight, he turned around on the piano chair and set the music aside.

"I can work on it tomorrow. You look worried, Annie, is something wrong?"

"Erik, I do not understand why the other dancers are treating me as badly as they are." I went on to repeat to him of the events of last night, and at times I noticed his face flare up in anger. It was quite a contrast to see, between the severity and dullness of the white leather and the rich emotion that passed over the unmasked side of his face.

"I will speak to them and inform them that this treatment of you will stop or they will be punished," he said forcefully as he stood.

I rose quickly and had him sit back down. "No, they know that you are here but not of who you are. They must never find out or you will be sent away. I cannot have you leave me, Erik, I feel as though you are the only friend I have left." Losing control, I burst into tears at my confession. He calmly walked over to me and embraced me in a hug, resting my head against his shoulder.

"I will not reveal myself to them, Annie, but I will be damned if I do not make them stop their unfair treatment to you."

* * *

We were at the last rehearsal of the week when Adele ran screaming into the practice room where all of the principle dancers were rehearsing. She ran breathlessly up to Monsieur Perrot and panting, recited a tale of a ghost on the main stage.

"I was practicing on stage while the orchestra was away, and all of a sudden a length of rope appeared out of nowhere! I tripped on it and fell, but when I looked up I saw a masked man in a black cape peering down at me. He threatened me, Monsieur, and I am frightened to return there again," she sobbed. Although I was a little angry at Erik for having deliberately revealed his presence, I could not help but chuckle at Adele's pathetic display.

The ballet master sighed, and told the dancers to take a few minutes for a break. I tiptoed closer and attempted as best I could to hear the conversation. "Really, Ms. Cholmondeley, your dramatics are becoming tiring, especially since we are getting closer to opening night." She attempted to stammer a response, but he would have none of it and she stalked out of the practice room. At the end of the rehearsal, I went to pick up my bag and found a daisy with a black ribbon tied around it.

_**Erik **_

I was seated at my desk sketching out some rough ideas for the modifications of the tunnels surrounding my home when Annie strode towards me, a stern look upon her face.

"Erik, did you terrorize Adele today?"

"Hmm, what makes you say that?" he said amused.

"Because she said there was a masked man in a cape."

"Now you are being discriminatory. Who's to say that there are no other men in the theatre that wear masks?"

"There are no other men, Erik, that wear masks. Not here, anyway."

"This is a theatre, Annie, of course people wear masks."

"Erik, quit being difficult! Did you corner her on the stage? I know you did!"

"Then why bother asking me?" I saw the enraged look in her eye and chose to answer her before anything worse happened. "Yes," I sighed. "It was I. I do not like the way she treats you, and I felt that I needed to warn her as such that her behavior would not be tolerated, or else serious consequences would occur. She cowered in fear at me, so I think she might watch her tongue around you now. Besides, I thoroughly enjoyed myself swishing around in a black cape. I picked it up from the costume department and I think that I shall have to make it a permanent feature in my wardrobe."

I knew she secretly relished the special attention, and was pleased that now she had a guardian who would stand up to that snot Adele, but at the same time I could tell she was still afraid that I would get caught. Perhaps it was masculine pride, or the fact that my mother drilled into my head the importance of manners and treating women with respect, but either way it was my duty to protect this woman who had saved my life from the gluttonous Gypsies.


	5. The Comte de Chagny

_**Three years later….**_

_**Antoinette**_

And so time progressed. Carlotta left the Opera Populaire shortly after the closing of _Giselle_ had completed the scheduled run time. We are told that she delivered a baby boy, though he died a few days after birth. When Monsieur Perrot returned to the opera house, it was noted that he was thoroughly depressed for quite some time.

Although a little nervous abut my major role, I received much praise from the ballet master and the newspaper critics about my role as Myrtha. I went on to dance the lead in the other productions of _La Sylphide,Le Diable Boîteux_and _La Péri _among many others. I was enjoying my role in the spotlight and worked extra hard to maintain my high standard of quality that was expected of me. My days off were spent in the empty practice room, balancing, twirling and twisting myself in awkward positions, attempting as best I could to make myself invincible. Fame is fleeting, so I had to take as much of it while it was still there.

Adele had since left the opera house. Not heeding the advice of the _Phantom_, as she called him, she continued to harass me and accuse me of having an affair with any stagehand that was nearby, especially the scallywag, Simon Buquet. She thought that I would drag them below the surface and seduce them like some common harlot, or that I would let them ravish me against the walls of the abandoned corridors late in the evening. Once, in the middle of the night, she rose from bed to use the chamber pot and got the shock of her life when the same man in the mask who had tripped her onstage a few months earlier was standing at the foot of her bed. She screamed and when the lights were turned up, we found her standing at the edge of her bed, her nightgown soiled, and her face contorted in a look of pure fright. She left almost immediately thereafter, though we were never certain whether it was from fright or embarrassment. I do not miss her.

Erik seemed to be greatly pleased with his new role of the "Phantom of the Opera." He stalked around in his mask and cape, particularly delighting in scaring the stagehands and youngest members of the corps de ballet. After a performance he always left me a daisy with a black ribbon tied around it. He had originally chosen daisies because they were the only flowers he could afford and because they were a simple beauty like myself, and though now I knew he could afford what he would consider far superior flowers, I was perfectly happy with my meaningful reminder of our long-term friendship. All of the other dancers assumed that I had a secret suitor based on all of the dried daisy petals I had I had in my dresser drawer, but after the torture that Adele went through, they thought it would be wise to just keep their pretty little mouths shut. He had truly made something of himself, though no one else knew of it but me. After the old wooden boat had begun to rot and leak, he crafted a beautiful Renaissance style gondola himself, having stolen wood piece by piece from the set construction shop. He found it quite amusing when the accountant for the opera house would angrily demand an explanation for the missing inventory.

Erik had begun to compose a new opera, and from the bits and pieces I had heard of it, I knew that should it ever be published or publicly performed, it would be a masterpiece, albeit a little out of place in French Victorian society. It was as yet untitled, though the morbid storyline consisted of a passionate love between a man and woman, and it is later revealed that she has been unfaithful to him. A tragic love triangle then enfolds that results in the death of the two young lovers. That was as much as Erik had surmised thus far.

"I will finish the storyline based on the music," he replied distractedly.

My days were spent torturing my body with dance rehearsals, and my nights were filled with beautiful music as I listened for what seemed to be hours on end of Erik either playing classical scores on his beloved organ or composing his piece. I was never much of a singer, so I would simply sit back and have my aural sensors pampered by the musical rapture that emanated from his vocal cords.

One night in particular I was listening to him play _Faust_, allowing myself to be entranced by the beauty, when Erik abruptly stopped playing. I quickly opened my eyes to find him turned around on his piano bench and staring thoughtfully at me.

"Is anything the matter?" I asked.

"What do you want?"

"Excuse me?"

"Out of life. Is there anything you want out of life, aside from dancing in the opera? Travel the world, have a family, or do you want to work for the Opera Populaire forever?" His blue eyes peered down at my spot on the floor, and I had to turn away from his curious piercing glare.

"I-I guess I had not really given any thought to the matter. I was just content being the prima ballerina, after all, that is what I have worked my whole life to achieve."

"Do you want to get married?" he asked again.

"Yes, I would, I thought that was what all women would want. When I retire from the opera house I will need someone to take care of me. Why do you ask all of this?'

"Annie, do you have any suitors?"

"_What_! Erik, what are you talking about? Of course I do not have any suitors, I do not _want_ any suitors right now. They lead to trouble, that is why I got this position, was because Carlotta became a little too close to her suitor! Perhaps I will accept one next year, but for now I am far to be busy with rehearsals to entertain the notion."

Erik appeared to be satisfied with my response and resumed lovingly stroking the ivory keys, the melodies dancing in my head for hours afterwards. He was younger than myself, and I had not considered it to be morally acceptable to have romantic feelings towards someone that I had rescued and raised as a brother. But I was at an age where women were getting married and having passionate relationships, and I could see the way Erik would look at me. What bothered me was the way I had found myself looking at him.

_**Erik**_

She did not know it, but I would make sure to dedicate time out of my day, every day, to see Annie dance during rehearsal. She looked like a goddess as she graced the dance floor with her intricate solos, and her style was flawless. Although she was well blossomed at the age of sixteen when I met her, I noted that her increase in rank was very important to her, and she made sure to train and build her body as necessary. This meant that her stomach was tighter, her legs thicker with muscle and not quite so spindly, and her breasts became firmer. I was entering that stage where boys really begin to take a look at members of the opposite sex, and when, on more than one occasion, I accidentally stumbled upon trysts between dancers and their lovers, I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to engage in such acts with Annie. I would never wish to defile her in such rough methods the others would, but I would savor her body and tell her how beautiful I thought she was.

I knew she was special from the moment I first saw her, but over this past year I had really grown to know her and understand the depths of her emotions and intelligence. The dancers had an unfair reputation of being dumb whores who knew nothing better than to twirl and spread their legs, but Annie never once exuded that portrayal. She carried herself with an air of dignity befitting a member of the aristocracy, and she never acted like she were better than anyone, a stark contrast to her prancing predecessor.

There was an age difference of four years between us, and it pained me slightly to know that she only regarded me as a dear younger brother than to see the potential romance that could blossom between us.

Somehow I found the courage to ask her one-day if she would ever consider marrying. "I would like to someday after I am through with dancing," she replied nonchalantly as she skimmed through a book.

"When you are done with dancing?" I laughed. "How could a woman put her profession before her husband and family?"

She scowled. "Erik, I would marry someone who loved me enough to wait for me, or maybe someone who was supportive enough of my career that they would allow me to continue dancing, but once I have a child, I could hardly hope to get my figure back so that it would look appealing in skin-tight costumes."

"Do you have any suitors?" I asked timidly.

"Erik! What a thing to say, of course I don't have any suitors! You should know that since you would be the first person I would tell if I did."

I was embarrassed because I knew it was true, and so I turned back to my faithful music as she rustled through the pages for the rest of the evening.

_**Antoinette**_

The following day I was speaking to Monsieur Perrot and a few other dancers when Monsieur Lefevre entered the dance studio with a well-dressed man in business attire. He smiled warmly and glanced about the room with satisfaction, and I assumed that he must be the new patron that everyone around the opera house had been buzzing about.

"Attention ladies and gentleman. I am sorry for the intrusion Monsieur Perrot, but I am pleased to introduce you all to our new patron, the Comte de Chagny."

Everyone clapped and together the two men proceeded to head in our direction to make a more personal acquaintance.

"It is a pleasure to have you support our artistic efforts here, Monsieur, and I assure you that your funds will be worthwhile," gushed the ballet instructor.

"I have no doubt about that," beamed the Comte. "Although my parents never really cared for it, I have always been deeply interested in the opera and I am eager to see this beautiful musical palace flourish." At that point he turned in my direction, and I caught the sparkle in his eye. "And my dearest Mademoiselle, I recognize you from your magnificent debut in _Giselle_. I am especially pleased to make your acquaintance at last." He took my hand in his and ever so delicately pressed it to his lips. Although flattered by his charms and handsome appearance, I was both embarrassed at the attention and still maintained the notion that I would not take a suitor for at least another year.

"Why thank you Comte, it is likewise a pleasure to meet you."

"Please, Mademoiselle, you may call me Samuel," he whispered, his smile growing broader. I could feel my cheeks grow pink as the other dancers that were still standing around gave me knowing smiles in my direction.

"Thank you again for your kind patronage, C-Samuel, now if you will excuse me, I need to speak with my ballet master," I replied as Monsieur Perrot and I headed into the hallway.

"I shall look forward to conversing again with you, Mademoiselle de Bontecou."

"I see that you have a suitor, Antoinette. And to think, he is both handsome and rich! I trust that by this time next year you shall be seeking to end your employment here."

"Please do not say such things to me!" I practically sobbed. "I feel so humiliated, now all of the other dancers will start up their gossip of me. I want to focus my attention on dancing. I have wanted this all of my life and I do not want the Comte nor anyone to distract me."

He smiled genuinely. "Ah, if only Carlotta felt the same as you. You truly are a wonderful woman, Antoinette. You know exactly what you want and how to get it, but you do it honestly and through hard work. You are an excellent role model for the other dancers because you do whatever it takes to succeed. I know that you will go far in life, my dear girl, and as far as suitors go, though you are young, you are at the prime of your life and thus are able to have your choice of the men that take an interest in you. I understand and commend your dedication to your dancing, but know that fame is temporary and sooner than you think, you will be unable to dance anymore. The Comte de Chagny is from a very wealthy and noble Parisian family, so you may want to reconsider the attention that you do or do not give him." He placed his hands on my shoulders and kissed the top of my head. "Whatever happens, my dear, I know that you will do well."

When I entered Erik's lair that evening, I could tell by the rage in the music that he was playing that he was not in the best of moods. He ignored me for the better part of an hour, and when at last his attention was focused upon me, I nearly jumped out of fright with the weight of his stare.

"Did you not say last night that you were not pursuing any suitors?" he seethed.

"I did say that and I still maintain that I am not," I defended.

"I hear there is a new patron, and that he seems captivated with your charms."

"He did speak briefly with me today, and it appeared that he did take an interest in me. However, that does not mean that I am likewise interested in anything romantic with him."

"But he is handsome and rich, the dream of every young woman, a dancer or otherwise. You are in a prime position to take advantage of his offerings."

I sighed and threw my hands up in the air. "Everyone is insisting that I take our meeting more seriously, but that is all it was, just an introduction!" I stopped and with narrowed eyes, I peered back at him, a sudden realization dawning on me. "Wait, how did you know that I met with him today?" He turned his back to me and was about to play again before I grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face me. "You were watching practice today, weren't you?"

"I heard everything through the floor vents," he lied.

"You cannot hear what transpired through the floor vents! Erik, I understand that you are my friend and that you are watching over me, and though I appreciate it, I have to wonder what your sudden interest is in my personal affairs."

"I do not want anything to happen to you, that is all."

"Erik, do you love me?"

"_What?" _He turned back around to face me again, a look of confusion apparent on the unmasked side of his face.

"Do you love me, or I should better ask, are you _in_ love with me?"

"Annie, you had better rest, your mind is mixed up."

"Erik, please tell me! I want to know the truth, the truth behind the flowers and the music."

"Why do you ask this of me?" he pleaded.

"Just tell me, Erik, are you jealous of the Comte?"

He slammed his fist down on the sides of the organ, and stood up, nearly knocking over his bench. I instinctively took a step backward and lowered my eyes from his menacing presence.

"You want me to answer that, Annie? No, I am not jealous of that overstuffed, pompous, arrogant pig they made a Comte! He gets everything in life thrown at him just for having a stupid title and for being handsome, so do not ever accuse me of being jealous of him!"

I had begun to sob at this point, afraid and ashamed of the anger I had released from him. I sat down upon the sofa and he strode towards me, a gentle expression passing over his face as he saw my tears.

"Forgive me, Annie, I did not mean to frighten you so. I have loved you since the day you rescued me from the Gypsies, and I have been in love with you since the night I saw you glistening upon the stage in your sparkling white dress, the night you stole the show from Carlotta. You have been my inspiration in creating the music for this opera, and knowing that I will see your beautiful face every night is what I joyfully anticipate throughout the day. Yes, Annie, I love you very much."


	6. Within Shadows He Resides

_Now that my other story_, All Consuming, _is finished, I can dedicate more time to this one. I don't have too many more "old" chapters to add, soI am hoping to write new ones soon. Thanks to all of you for reading!**

* * *

**_

**_Antoinette_**

I stood before Erik, completely dumbfounded at his shocking confession. My mouth and vocal cords were unable to form coherent words, and his face scanned mine in an attempt to decipher a reaction.

"Erik, this is quite an interesting revelation," I stated at last, shaking my head at the news.

"Just leave, Annie," he said disappointedly.

"But Erik-"

"_Just go!"_

The voice that had only just sung such sweet music now bellowed with such ferocity that before I realized what I was doing, my legs had propelled me out of the underground cavern. I rushed back to the dormitories, my face red and streaked with tears. I collapsed upon my bed, pulling my flattened pillow over my head so that no one could notice my unkempt appearance. Erik's menacing voice and the contorted pain that was present would not leave my mind, and I silently sobbed into the ratty cushion until at last I fell asleep.

I endured a night of tumultuous unrest, tossing and throwing off my body the thin blankets. I recall awakening with a stiff body, and shivering uncontrollably. It hurt too much to even attempt to get out of body, so I had Mirielle inform Monsieur Perrot that I was too ill to attend practice. Thankfully we were only in the earliest stages of rehearsal for the next show; I would have been horrified to miss an actual performance. The opera nurse attended to me shortly after Mirielle had left for practice, and she did all of the preliminary tests before concluding that I had influenza and should immediately take up quarters in the infirmary before anyone else became infected.

"My child, it seems as though you have been exposed to mildew or some other poisonous air-born allergens. Have you been spending large amounts of time around water?"

"No, Madame," I lied. "I am either rehearsing or in the dormitories. I rarely have a free moment for an outing."

"Perhaps you should then take a break from dancing so much. If you continue to put such a strain on your body, you will cause irreversible damage and will be unable to dance anymore."

My head throbbed and the intense fever was clouding my perception, so the nurse's words of wisdom went practically unnoticed.

I tried to fall asleep, but the tranquility of slumber evaded me, and I tossed and turned the entire night. My thoughts turned to Erik and of the disaster of the night previous. I had no idea that he felt such strong emotions for me, so naturally I was astonished by his startling confession. I had never really considered a romantic perspective on the way I felt towards him. However, as I reflected upon our three years of friendship, I could not believe that I had failed to see the signs: the flowers, evenings spent together and the warm smiles that he always cast in my direction.

"_What will become of us now?"_ I thought miserably. _"Will I ever see him again?"_

When at last I was able to fall asleep, my dreams were filled with horrible visions that cause me to nearly leap out of bed after being jolted awake. I dreamt that I was back at the Gypsy carnival from where I rescued Erik, and that he was there in the cage with his hands tied behind him and a rough burlap rag was shoved in his mouth. They were beating and torturing him, his broken body defenseless to the blows inflicted upon him. They kept asking him questions that I was unable to hear, but he would either remain silent or shake his head.

At last one of them "spoke" loud enough for me to hear the question. _"Where is the girl that you led you to escape this place? Where are you hiding her?"_

They removed Erik's gag and as he sat on his knees, he exclaimed, _"I love Annie and I would do everything and more to save her. Do what you will to me, but at least I repaid the kindness she offered and allowed me a chance at freedom."_ With his outburst they beat more violently than before, and as they brought a large club against the back of his skull, I mercifully woke up, undistinguishable screams coming from my lungs. The nurse rushed back in, soothing my tears and I cried hysterically as she assured me that it was nothing but a bad dream. I never wanted to see anything like that happen to him again, and I would never forgive myself if he was discovered in the cellar, and something happened to him that I could have prevented.

I was in the infirmary for nearly a week, and even when they released me my body was too sore to do anything but slowly creep around the opera house. Monsieur Perrot allowed me to attend rehearsal but forbade me from dancing until I felt completely better, which took an additional two days.

In the meantime I had received no communication from Erik, though from I what I heard, he had been terrorizing the theatre more often than normal. Poor Renee had her slippers stolen and they were found in the opera stables, Blanche and her lover were copulating in the hallway when all of the candles mysteriously blew out and they heard menacing laughter, and Diana had a piece of a set backdrop fall on top of her, fracturing her collarbone. Joseph Buquet had claimed that he had seen the long billowing cape and the flash of a white mask just before the incident had occurred.

"It is the work of the Opera Ghost, I swear!" he exclaimed frantically. The blame was still placed on him for the accident and he was forbidden to use the upper catwalks until further investigation into the matter could be explored.

I felt a twinge of sadness when I learned of what Erik was doing from a different source other than himself.

When I was finally able to continue dancing, I once again committed to focusing all of my time into catching up on what I had missed. Monsieur Perrot threatened that I would have a relapse, though aside from some fatigue that I did not normally have when I was healthy, I was in fairly good condition. In this particular production there were really only a few roles for featured dancers, so for the most part I had to simply go over the main dance routines for the corps de ballet. Mirielle was gracious enough to rehearse with me during those extra hours in the practice room, and repeated what Monsieur Perrot expected of us.

Mirielle had joined the corps de ballet about four years after I did, and she was a year younger than myself. I never really took notice of her until the ballet master had asked me to assist her in learning new steps. That was a few years ago, and after that our friendship just blossomed. I was still not as close with her as I had been with Adele, but I found that I was at least able to talk to and confide in her.

"While you were absent with your sickness, the Comte de Chagny was inquiring about you," she hinted with a smirk.

"Is that so? And just precisely what was he inquiring about?" I replied coyly.

"He wanted to come see you in the infirmary, but the nurse strictly prohibited visitors, other than Monsieur Perrot, to come see you. He said that he hoped you would have supper with him once you were feeling better." She noticed the change in my demeanor as I cast my eyes downward and chewed my bottom lip. "Are you not fond of the Comte?"

"I do not know him, therefore I cannot make a fair statement in that regard. He is handsome and certainly charming, but I cannot help but feel that he is intolerably conceited."

"Perhaps your perception would change once you got to know him better."

"Perhaps."

The next day the Comte just so happened to show up at the theatre during rehearsal, and I was not entirely sure it was pure coincidence when he bumped into me in the hallway.

"Mademoiselle de Bontecou, what a pleasure to see that you are feeling well again. I was worried about you, and that dreadful crone of a nurse would not allow me to come visit," he gushed dramatically.

"I am fine now, Monsieur, and I am appreciative that you were thinking of me," I said as I attempted to duck past him and resume walking.

"Why of course I have been thinking of you! I have been unable to get you out of my head since the day we were first acquainted."

"How…charming, Comte."

"Please, my dear, you may call me Samuel."

"If I may, I would be obliged to refer to you by your formal title as I feel it is inappropriate to address you, our ever so generous patron, as anything otherwise." I smiled flirtatiously and he apparently bought the act.

"If the lady so desires then I must comply with her request." It was a miracle that Monsieur Lefevre happened to be passing at the moment, and upon seeing the Comte, needed to speak with him immediately. I waved delicately over my shoulder as I continued down my intended path, hoping that Erik's all-seeing presence happened to be elsewhere in the theatre.

I was then headed back to the dormitories when I felt a pair of strong arms yank me into a dark corner. I was about to scream when a bony, gloved hand clamped down around my mouth, stifling any sound that I could have made.

"You do not want to irritate me further, Antoinette, do you understand me? I find it very ironic that you do not want any suitors and that you shun me after I admit my love for you, yet when this fashion plate arrives on the scene you are all over him like a bitch in heat."

I struggled against Erik's grip for a few seconds, my body pressed tightly against his and nearly immobilized, until he released his thin fingers from my arms. As I turned around to face him, I slapped him with all of the strength I could muster. He seemed very surprised at my uncharacteristic maneuver and pressed a hand to his reddening cheek.

"How _dare_ you accuse me of lying to you! I have no interest in the Comte whatsoever, and you have some audacity to approach me this way. As it is, I do not know how you can still be so angry with me when you sprung your feelings upon me, and then you never bothered allowing me to give an explanation. I have not seen you for _three weeks_, Erik, how can you show up out of the dark, literally, and demand to know who I am consorting with and the details of it!"

This whole time he had stood with his arms folded across his chest, a sarcastic expression on his face. When at last I ended my verbal tirade, attempting to catch my breath, he asked, "Are you finished yet?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact I am."

"Good," and with that he violently pressed his lips to mine, drawing my body closer to get a deeper taste and feel. At first I attempted to push him away, but as his lips gently massaged mine, I found that the sensation was quite pleasurable, one that I had never experienced before, and I found myself succumbing to this erotic display in the shadows.


	7. A Courtship

**_Antoinette _**

Breathless, I pulled my lips apart from his. I opened my eyes, and found that Erik's blue eyes were hungry with a ravening lust. I had never before see him this way, and as I took in the sight of him in a state of frenzied arousal, I could not help but be a little intimidated by it.

"Annie," he whispered. "I _need_ you." Our mouths fervently pressed together once more before he broke away. "Tell me that you love me."

His voice was so desperate, pleading almost, and I was still so astonished by what had transpired, I did not know what to say. "Erik, I am not sure…."

"I felt it, just now," he said, grabbing my arm. "I felt it in your kiss. We could be so happy together, Annie, just think of the life we could live together, joined in our love."

"I am so confused, this is all too overwhelming right now," I said shakily, biting my swollen lip.

"There is no need to be confused. You do not notice it, but I see it every time you are beside me. I may not know much about human interaction, but I can feel something between us, and I know that we are meant for each other. Please say you will be mine."

"I don't know. Please don't abandon me again, but give me time, a few days to decide. There is so much that I need to think about." He consented and planted a chaste kiss on my cheek before heading back to the cellars.

I retreated to the safe haven of the dormitories to sort out what I was going to do. It had never occurred to me that I might be repressing my feelings for him because I had been so distracted with my career. There were fleeting moments that I had had when I daydreamed of what life would be like with Erik if things were to romantically evolve, but I never anticipated it turning into a potential reality. When Erik kissed me, it ignited passionate emotions that I had never before felt so strongly for anyone. The difficult part to assess was whether it was truly love, or if I was blinded by a hormone-induced lust. Also, if we were to have such a relationship, it would be quite difficult to maintain given that he lived underground and was reclusive towards everyone in the theatre. I knew that Erik's declaration of love was sincere, and that he would do his best to care for me, but the fact was that I could not change him. He would still probably want to reside below ground, still regard mankind so negatively, and characteristically speaking, he was selfish, stubborn, moody and potentially violent. Although I would most likely not be a victim of one of his outbursts, I did not know how closely connected I wanted to be with him should he be discovered, lest I be dragged unwittingly into a criminal plot.

Still undecided and with my head pounding from over analysis, I decided to seek some advice.

"Mirielle, how do you know if you are in love?" I asked hesitantly.

Sitting on her bed and reading, she set her book down and looked at me excitedly. "Annie, do you have a lover?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself," I laughed. "There is a man that I am interested in pursuing a relationship with, however I am not sure if I am in love with him. I have known him for over three years now, and just recently he professed his love for me, which got me thinking about how I feel for him."

"How does he make you feel? Do you get really excited to see him and does your heartbeat quicken?"

"A little, I guess."

"Hmm…. What do you do when you are in the company of each other?"

"We spend a lot of time together, and it usually involves listening to him play music or telling him how my rehearsals have been progressing."

"So he takes an active interest in your life, that is a good sign," she replied thoughtfully. "Have you two been intimate?"

"Intimate?" I repeated again, blushing. I had never thought of Erik I quite /I like that! "He kissed me once, and though it was certainly fiery, that was all that physically transpired between us." It sounded so mundane to verbally replay the kiss, but it was so much more involved than what I could possibly convey. Maybe I really was secretly in love with him, and I just never realized it.

"So when do I have the pleasure of meeting this mystery suitor?" she asked, her voice laced with suggestion.

Her question caught me off guard, and it quickly snapped me back to the present moment. "Uh…um…he does not enjoy the company of others," I quickly stammered.

She blinked, obviously taken aback. "That's odd. How did you two meet then?"

"I was out around the town, and we just encountered each other. I had dropped my coin purse in the street, and he was a kind gentleman to retrieve it for me. It happened near the Rue de Scribe, and he told me he was from that area."

"If he overcomes his timidity, I would very much like to meet him," she hinted again.

"He is usually away on business. I just happened to have been in luck in that he has been home for longer than usual lately. However, I believe that he will be sent away to Vienna fairly soon." I was eager for her to stop asking questions, lest I unintentionally reveal information that could lead to Erik's identity.

"What does he do for a living?"

"He works on a piano?"

"Like a piano tuner?"

"You could say that." I quickly glanced over my shoulder and at my watch to demonstrate my eagerness to be elsewhere, and I hurried to think of an excuse for my departure. "I have a meeting with Madame McCabe to have my costume fitted." That was not a complete lie; I did need to see the wardrobe mistress and I did have an appointment, but it was to see Erik. "I will see you later this evening, and I am very appreciative of the words you have given me, you have really helped me." I turned to leave before I had forgotten one more very important thing. "Oh, and please do not tell anyone, otherwise the Comte would believe me to be a liar." She promised not to tell a soul, and off I went in search of Erik.

As I cautiously made my way through the hidden stone corridors, I pondered what exactly I would say to him. It was not love I felt, not yet, but I was fond of him. My mind began to drift in the direction of what our lives together would be like. It certainly would not be a conventional marriage, and if we were to have children…. Bah! I was getting too far ahead of myself!

I entered his home and found that he was not present. I decided to take a look around and survey how things were going in terms of slowly getting his little nook of a house in shape, and also how his opera was coming along. There were papers scattered along the top of the organ, and a bottle of ink had been overturned, a puddle of viscous black liquid congealing on the stone slabs. I noticed that there were scraps of brightly colored silk fabric sitting atop his workbench, and there was a creepy stuffed monkey with cymbals sitting beside what I could only assume was a music box based on the cranking wooden handle.

I came upon a canvas that had been propped up so that the image was hidden from view, but when I turned it around so that I could see it, the picture nearly caused me to jump out of my skin. Painted delicately upon the canvas was a portrait of myself, dancing the lead in _La Péri_ He captured everything perfectly: the motion as I danced, the way the light glistened and caused my dress to sparkle, and the graceful way my body looked when I was onstage.

"It hardly does you any justice," spoke a voice from behind me. I spun around to find Erik casually staring at me, his arms folded across his chest. "You looked so beautiful that night, I could not get that image out of my head for nearly a month until I painted this. You truly are amazing onstage."

"Thank you, you are very talented yourself. I did not know that you could paint so well. Is there any artistic talent which you have not been able to master?"

He shrugged. "It just comes natural to me." He showed me some more of his work before I told him my reason for being down there.

"I was thinking about what you said, and I do not see why we would be unable to maintain a courtship, so long as we kept it hidden."

His eyes glowed and he kissed me full on the lips. "Oh, Annie, I am so glad that you have reconsidered!" He swept me up in his arms, twirling me around and making my long skirt billow outward. "I will make you so happy."

**_Erik_**

My cheek was still stinging when I grabbed Annie and pressed my face boldly against hers. She made a little squeal of protest that was muffled by my lips, but her better judgment was quickly abandoned as she returned the act with a timid reserve. Despite the mean things I had said to her, she had voiced her displeasure at having a suitor at the present moment, which worked both positively and negatively at this moment. She was a free woman to pursue; however her narrow-mindedness also meant that my chances of her agreeing to a courtship between us were slim. When I felt her hand start to slide and caress my bicep, I knew I had invoked dark, passionate feelings that she would refuse to acknowledge. Kissing led to passion, passion led to sex, and with sex comes a child, something I knew that she would not want as long as she were to continue dancing. This ingrained fear prevented her from even seeking out a suitor, and being witness to countless girls leaving the corps de ballet because of pregnancy, she knew that abstinence, and absence of a lover, would be the reason she maintained her position.

She pulled away from the kiss, much to prematurely than I would have liked, and my eyes remained closed a few seconds longer, savoring the honey taste of her lips. I opened my eyes and saw the surprise imbedded in her gaze, but noted that she was not at all angry at my forwardness. My lower regions had begun to swell and throb, and I didn't want her to get _too _close for fear of her feeling a bulge and becoming scared. But, _oh_ _God, _I could have taken her right there against the wall. The image of me lifting her against the wall, pushing up her skirts and penetrating her sent an extra jolt of vigor through my body, and I hastily crushed my mouth to hers once more. This time I dared pushing my tongue into her mouth, as I had seen countless times with all the liaisons that occurred in this building, and she accepted with a soft moan. Knowing that things were progressing much too rapidly, it was I that broke the embrace this time, and huskily said, "Tell me that you love me." It was not a question, or a plea, but a demand as I stood panting directly in front of her, my eyes peering at her as though I could see into her very soul.

"Erik, I don't know. Everything is happening so fast!" Her breath was heaving, and I noted happily that it was causing her flushed breasts to protrude slightly forward. I maintained all of my control not to bury my face within the bodice of her dress.

"_Please_," I begged. She could not deny me this time; her actions clearly spoke for her.

"I'm so confused," she whined.

"There is no need to be confused. You do not notice it, but I see it every time you are beside me. I may not know much about human interaction, but I can feel something between us, and I know that we are meant for each other. Please say you will be mine."

I gave her time to think it over, and meanwhile decided to occupy my time by continuing the work on my little house. The primary entrance to my home was complete, as it was just a makeshift stone dock where I would tie off the gondola and by climbing a small set of stone steps, one would be in my music room. I had initially thought of keeping this room private, but I found that the lapping of water was soothing when I would be contemplating for hours on just three bars of music. Beyond this was my bedroom, which contained a full size canopy bed and armoire, a modest bathroom, a makeshift kitchen that had barely been started, and a room that was just a stone slab but would eventually become a library. I was comfortable here, and settled in as though this would be the home I was to retire in.

I had been chiseling out more rock from the dining area when I heard a startled gasp. I peered around the corner and found Antoinette kneeling on the cold stone, a few of my unfinished canvasses in her hands. But I found that the one she was looking at was not one of the many copies I had done of famous European buildings, but of her dancing en pointe in her pale blue costume from _La Péri_ which we had performed two years previous. I smiled as she did not hear me approach, and she nearly jumped when she heard me speak.

"Erik, how could you paint like this?" she asked in awe. "You captured me so well, it is almost as though I am looking into a mirror."

"You were amazing that night. Not only did you look beautiful, but also your dancing was captivating. I believe most of the audience had even forgotten that Carlotta ever existed after they saw your performance."

She blushed, and cautiously changed the subject. "Erik, I thought about what you asked me earlier. You know how I feel about my career and having a suitor, however I thought that as long as we kept things…slow for now…. I've come to realize that I was keeping my feelings for you hidden, even from myself." She gave an exasperated sigh. "Erik, what I am trying to say is that I would like to have you as my suitor, under the condition that we keep it private from everyone."

I could hardly contain my excitement, and immediately rushed forward and twirled her in my arms. "Annie, I am so glad that you have reconsidered! Oh, we will be so happy together and I promise to do anything for you." I kissed her with less fiery passion than earlier, and I was just simply contented to spend my evening with her wrapped in my arms by the lakeside.


	8. The First Taste of Intimacy

**_Antoinette _**

Our courtship really was not much different from our friendship, aside from the physical romantic elements to it. When everyone noted a change in my demeanor, they could only guess as to what had come over me. Mirielle urged me to tell everyone the good news, and at last I began to answer people truthfully when they would ask.

One evening shortly after I broke the news, I was startled to find the Comte de Chagny standing outside the practice room. "Hello, Monsier le Comte, to what do I bestow this great pleasure of your company?" We had since become very good friends, and only addressed each other so formally as part of an ongoing humorous touch.

"Hello Mademoiselle de Bontecou. I hear that you have some exciting news in your life, in that you have recently taken a suitor." I instantly blanched, afraid that he would think me a liar and a woman of loose morals, but he laughed when he noted my stunned expression. "Do not look so alarmed, Annie, I am not angry with you. This is such news, that the prudish leading dancer has at last found some love in her life."

I heaved a sigh and laughed openly. "I am not prudish! And yes, I do have a suitor. It happened quite recently…and unexpectedly."

"Congratulations, and what is the name of this rather fortunate young fellow who has been able to catch your heart when I have failed so many times."

"Erik. Just Erik." I stated firmly.

"I should like to shake his hand and buy him a drink then."

"Oh but such formalities are not necessary yet. It is not like we are engaged!"

"Ah, but do not jinx yourself just yet, who knows what is in store for you in the future," he said with a wink.

"Samuel, I want you to know that I was not lying when I had said that I was not interested in a suitor. I have known Erik for over three years and, well, things just evolved with our friendship."

Apparently my awkwardness was something of great humor because he chuckled. "Say no more, mademoiselle, I too have become a little overcome with emotion. I have recently met a beautiful young lady by the name of Mirielle Barbicon and have found myself at a loss when in her presence."

"Mirielle Barbicon from the corps de ballet! It is little wonder then as to why she has been so giddy lately! But Samuel, if I may, I have to inquire as to why you are so interested in ballerinas. Outside the theatre we are regarded as little more than whores. I would think someone of your social status would be looking for someone more…within your social realm."

"I choose to isolate myself from those snobby, prudish ice queens as much as possible," he spat disgustedly. "I desire a woman who will raise our children with etiquette, but who also understands that there are other people out there that do not have vast amounts of money. My sisters are a perfect example of who I I do not /I want to marry, who gossip about lower class women and stick their noses in the air at anyone who has to work for a living. My children need to understand reality."

"If only everyone felt the way you do."

**Six Months Later**

Dress rehearsals began for the show _Aparitions _, so my time spent with Erik was limited and far between. In the odd chance that we were together, he would do sweet things like surprise me with little presents or teach me how to play the organ. Admittedly I was not very good, but with each wrong chord, Erik would patiently instruct me the proper method. In our blissful moments together I realized what an amazing feeling it was to love and be loved in return, and Erik heartily agreed with my sentiments. As our relationship progressed, I began to think more about the possibility of marriage, though when I approached Erik about the subject, he instantly became reluctant to consider it an option.

"Annie, I could not possibly live my life with the normal public above." I should have known of his resistance; not since I first saw him at the Gypsy carnival did he reveal his face to me.

"But I love you and would like to spend the rest of my life as your wife," I pleaded. He knew of my adoration of him, though I do not think he fully grasped that I was willing to be by his side for the rest of our living days. He never voiced it, but I knew that he felt that I would soon grow tired and abandon him, like his mother.

"I would like that as well, but I cannot ask you to forgo your life in order to live in a dank basement with a hideous creature like myself. The ballet rats are terrified of me, how would your career flourish if everyone were to discover that their principle dancer was none other than the wife of the Opera Ghost!" He looked forlornly at me before turning his back and running his hands through his dark hair. "I cannot be the man you want me to, nor will society permit me to do so."

"Will you stop giving excuses as to why you restrict your life's pursuits? I am not asking you to be the social king of Paris, I am simply contemplating the direction that we are going in. Erik, we have been together for over half a year now, it is time to decide what we are to do, whether we end things, or settle for a permanent commitment. We could reside in the country where your encounters with people are seldom, if at all. This is no way to live for the rest of your life."

"And how would you know what is best for me?" he raged suddenly. "I lived above ground for thirteen years, and I lived in misery! I was ridiculed and ostracized for a deformity that I certainly did not wish to obtain. I was viewed as an outcast by the general public and an unwanted burden upon my selfish mother, the woman who is supposed to love me unconditionally. So, yes, this is the best way to live my life."

My eyes brimmed with tears as he recounted the harshness that had been his way of life before I knew him. He would never understand that there were good, decent people who would not perceive him as an outcast, and would come to admire the talent that he possessed. But I was most distressed about his unwillingness to compromise. Somehow I knew that we were destined to be romantically entwined, and yet his stubbornness stood in the way of a happy future together. "Erik, what are you saying? Does this mean that everything we have together is in vain? Am I throwing my life away with the foolish notion that someday we could be husband and wife?"

"Annie, I love you, but what if we get married and our children look like me?"

I could not help laughing out loud. "Children, Erik? I am surprised you even thought that far ahead, you seem unable to think past yourself in the present moment. Our courtship has progressed to the point where we should be seriously evaluating issues such as this one. If there is no potential for marriage, then I am clearly wasting my time as well as your own." I began to walk away before calling over my shoulder, "Perhaps I will go to dinner with the Comte de Chagny after all!"

"Please, come back!"

But I was much too angry to return to him. How could I possibly help him if he would not help himself?

* * *

I kept trying to convince myself that things would be better if Erik and I discontinued our courtship. If there were no intention of being together for the rest of our lives, what would be the purpose of our romantic union at all? I was far too engrossed in my dancing to waste my time with this if it would not eventually yield results. I had not yet become his bed maiden, so I knew that he was not stringing me along for his sordid purposes, and I would not fully believe his notion that he could not be a normal man. 

And yet the bond that we had was too strong to allow me to abandon hope. Our absence from each other had only been a few days, but in my time away from the other dancers, I could not help but feel bored and lonely. Over the past six months I was always making excuses as to why he was not able to meet my opera family; he was away on business, he had been ill in hospital, we met at the café nearby so I did not need to ride in his carriage, and it got to the point where I think people actually thought I made him up, as though he were a figment of my imagination. Well, if things did go sour between us, at least I would not have to lie anymore!

I debated as to whether I should swallow my pride and apologize, or continue on with my life as though Erik had never entered it. But what I mostly tortured myself over was how he would cope should we permanently distance ourselves: would he miss me terribly and come crawling back to regain our relationship, or worse, be glad I was gone? I would burst into tears at the mere notion of him romantically affiliated with another woman.

On the third day of our _separation_, I returned exhausted and unhappy from rehearsal. Monsieur Perrot was feeling ill and snapping at the dancers, even causing poor little Mathilda torun from the room crying. When I returned to the dormitories, I removed my dirty leotard, and changed into a comfortable navy frock, prepared to settle in for the evening with a good book. I reached for my novel on my bedside table, and when I flipped to the page I had left off, a slip of stationary fell from where my place marker should have been.

_Annie, meet me in our room._

_-E._

Not knowing what to expect, I sighed as I dragged my weary body off of my bed and reluctantly trudged down the dusty hallway to our secret rendezvous. I extended my hand to reach for the brass knob, but was startled when the door slowly swung open, seemingly of its own accord. While at first glance one would assume by Erik's signature that this would be a good meeting, the mystery that shrouded him meant that anything could come from this encounter.

I cautiously entered the room and found Erik sat on the musty vanity stool, his head in his hands. When he heard the creak of the door, his head snapped up and the unmasked side of his face had visible creases from worrying.

"You came," he said simply, as though he were too tired to be shocked. I nodded slowly and rising from the creaky stool, he approached me. "Annie, I am so sorry for what happened between us. I have been unforgivably selfish, and I really do not deserve your love."

I stopped him before he could continue. "Erik, that is my point. You are so full of self-hatred that you have no faith in yourself. I love you, not just for your outside appearance but for who you are inside. Yes, you are disfigured which is very tragic and you do not deserve it, but rather than spend your entire life alone in seclusion, why not pass on your legacy with your music. I will stay by your side no matter what, but you have to trust me first, Erik." My tone was nearly pleading and I could see his hardened expression soften as he understood my desperation.

"I do trust you, Annie, more than you will ever understand." He leaned forward to kiss me, but I wanted him to know that he could not seduce me into sidestepping the matter.

"Erik, do you understand what I am saying?"

"Yes, I know, and I promise things will be better for us. I promise."

Well, things became as good as life can be when you are in love with a secluded underground hermit who is full of spite for the human race. I tried not to focus so much on the way our relationship should be because although I kept trying to convince Erik that we could live a normal cohesive existence together, I knew it was damn near impossible unless we chose to live in a leper colony. He became frustrated as inspiration dwindled for his masterpiece. There were many tumultuous nights where I quietly left his little cavern while he angrily pounded on his organ, desperate to gain some insight from the clashing chords.

But it was during one of these tantrums when things really started to change for us. I was sitting on the couch, stitching a rip in one of his shirts, when he suddenly turned on the piano bench and faced me. I immediately heard the music stopped, and when I raised my head, I nearly jumped up from the penetrating stare he cast in my direction.

"Erik, are you alright?"

His eyes still fiercely piercing mine, he was behind me in the blink of an eye. "Er-," but before I could even finish his name, his fingertips were at the base of my throat, gently gliding across the skin. Unconsciously I let me head roll back as I stood up to get closer to him, succumbing to the relaxing sensation of his caress. This was not the first time he had tantalized me with the expert dexterity of his fingers, but I could sense a passionate urgency in him, especially when his hands trailed to the previously forbidden territory of my breasts. For the third time I called his name, this time in mild irritation, but as I reached up to pull his hands away, he spun me around in a desperate kiss. As he deepened the kiss, his glorious lips parted and I felt his tongue invade my mouth, and spurned on by his fervor, I extended mine as well.

"Annie," he panted as he continued to kiss me. "Annie, can I please take off your dress? Just your dress, I promise we do not have to go further. Dammit, I need so badly to feel you!"

"No," I whispered in the same lust-induced voice. "If I do you know it will not stop there." But it did not matter as he ignored my warning and began to unhook the buttons down the back of my frock. I did not resist. As I kicked my dress away from my ankles, he lay on the couch and I boldly straddled myself around his waist. I had never ventured in his private territory below his waist, and I nearly leapt a second time when I felt the bulge in his pants press against my thigh.

"Do you see what you do to me," he purred before pulling my face down to his. We continued our oral invasion when I began to feel a peculiar feeling in between my legs. I had heard enough talk during breaks in rehearsal, and I had even witnessed a few liaisons backstage when I would secretly meet with Erik, but it just seemed so unnatural, even dirty, for it to be happening to me.

"Do not think me so naïve; if only you knew what you were doing to me," I breathed as my teeth nibbled his ear. He moaned audibly and with one quick motion, had me flat on my back with his strong body covering my own.

"Mademoiselle, I have you underneath me in only your undergarments and in an aroused state. Do not tempt to the point of no return." I could feel moisture pool at my loins with the sound of strained desire in his voice as he imprisoned me at the height of my vulnerability. I could feel my cheeks flush from both passion and embarrassment of being in such a provocative position, and he revealed a roguish smile from the visible side of his face. "I believe that my lady is enjoying herself despite her modest protests. Perhaps I shall give her a taste of sensuality."

The shriek that somehow escaped my mouth echoed off the cavern walls as he lay across my body and rocked against me. Laughing delightedly, he bunched my petticoat around my hips and rolling his hips, pushed against me once more, this time with his clothed erection pressed against my womanhood. I closed my eyes and arched my back as he repeatedly used me in this fashion, silently cursing myself for desiring my chastity. If Erik had asked it of me, I would have ordered him to remove my clothes, cut them off me if he had to, but he never submitted such a request and instead made it vocally clear that he was content with our substitute method of mating. His swollen lips found mine once more and desperately planted little kisses around my mouth, neck and above the bust line of me chemise. He moved over me this way for too short a time before he suddenly braced himself against the couch and tensing up, released a loud, appreciative groan of pleasure. He quickly stood up and excused himself, but not before I could see that his release had caused a noticeable wet spot to appear on his trousers. I lay back on the couch, pulling my petticoat back down to cover my pantalettes, and attempted to tuck back in place the curly tendrils that had escaped from my chignon. I realized what I had been missing out on when all of the chorus girls would talk about their lovers and I would turn up my nose at them for soiling their reputations. I could not go to bed completely with Erik because I did not want to ruin my career for the same reason Carlotta had ruined hers, but at the same time, I did not feel completely satiated by the activities Erik and I had engaged in. I felt something missing, as though something belonged… _there_. I was hot and sticky and began to wonder what it would feel like if we officially became lovers….


	9. The Exploits of Love

_Thank you, Gerardphantomhot for you input, I agree that sometimes overly graphic sex can be the undoing to a story, though I will warn you all that the next few chapters are going to have sex. I don't anticipate any more, really, for a while, so just make it through nine and ten, and you will be in the clear. For those of you who want sex, enjoy it while it's here!_

_**

* * *

Erik**_

I couldn't believe what had suddenly got into Annie that she would actually let me do something so intimate. True, we had kept our clothes on as we took pleasure from each other's movements, but while I got my fill of pleasure, as Annie surely must have noticed from my ruined trousers, I was worried of what she must be thinking.

_"Does she think I am trying to jeopardize her morals? I hope she doesn't think I am only thinking of myself."_

But I also could not help the feelings of a sixteen year old who was rapidly becoming a man. I loved Annie with all of my heart, but if she was willing to give at least a little of herself_in that way_, any man would be a fool not to at least think of engaging in sex acts with her.

_"Oh, what am I /I thinking I , I have to stop myself! I know how important her career is to her, and I have to find something that will satisfy us, but not cause her to get her with child."_

In my exploits, I had seen numerous couplings, almost to the point where I could just ignore it as I brushed past, but when I saw Joseph Buquet's head between the thighs of one of the ballet tarts, I could only assume as to what he was doing, and it got my mind thinking of just the solution that would be appealing to both participants….

_**Antoinette**_

I excused myself shortly after Erik's return, citing an early rehearsal in the morning. He seemed disappointed that I was to leave and though I was disappointed to depart from his company, the room had become stifling and I needed to make a hasty exit. If Erik truly knew what I was thinking, I feared that he might think me of loose morals, especially because of my prudish airs that I had maintained for so long. I was grateful that upon my return to the dormitories most of the girls were asleep so that I would not have to answer to their suspicions of why I was out so late. I quickly undressed and changed into my worn cotton nightdress, just relieved to be cloaked in only one layer. A cool breeze blew in from the oval window at the other end of the row of beds, and after such a steamy night in the dank basement, I slept comfortably with the breeze tugging at my sheets.

I awoke in the morning feeling refreshed and invigorated to start the day. "Hmm, what were you up to last night that you are so chipper before rehearsal?" Mirielle winked. "You did not return until nearly midnight."

"I was visiting with Erik, he is in town," I said with a smile.

Her eyes lit up instantly with the possibility of juicy scandalous gossip. "Oh, Annie, did you, you know, _couple _with him?"

"Mirielle, don't get ahead of yourself!" She smiled slyly. "Mirielle Annabella Barbicon, have you and the Comte…?" Her smile widened, she blushed and looked away. "Mirielle! When did this happen?"

"A few weeks ago I had dinner at his estate just outside of Paris. It was wonderful, Annie, he truly is an amazing man. His parents are away in Vevey, and we were strolling through the gardens when he kissed me, and, well…." She blushed again. I urged her to continue, and she laughed as we sat outside the practice room. "Ok, well we started to get, uh, _involved_, so he thought we should take it upstairs so that no one would see us. We hadn't intended to make love, but it just happened!"

"What was it like? Did it hurt? Was he gentle? How long did it last?" I was eager to hear more, imaging Erik and I in the scenario that she described.

"Listen to you, Annie, the prudish little ballerina who didn't want to hear about kissing, and now you are desperate for details on sex!" I gave her a sarcastic look and she continued. "We were in his bedroom, and it was so romantic, Annie. He was very gentle, and it hurt a little at first, but then the pain was gone and it was just spectacular. We have done it a few times since then, but we had to do it elsewhere lest his parents find out."

"But are you worried about getting pregnant?"

"No, before he could have the chance to, he pulled out and didn't get any in me." Before I could ask her more about it, Monsieur Perrot entered the practice room, and we made our way inside to start our basic morning routine before going over the steps for the upcoming show. My rehearsal was to last all day for the extra steps I was to rehearse, and by the end of the evening, I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in my bed, but as I was heading out the door, the ballet instructor halted me in my tracks.

"How is your relationship going, Antoinette?"

"It is going quite well, Monsieur Perrot, thank you." I turned to exit, not meaning to cause my teacher disrespect, but eager to remove my sweaty dance clothes.

He grabbed my shoulder, and urged me to stay and talk. "Annie, I have noticed that you are quite happy, and I am grateful that you finally have love in your life, but I am also concerned for your well being." Spotting the quizzical look I cast in his direction, he continued. "I overheard your conversation with Mademoiselle Barbicon, and I must advise you against doing something foolish. She is engaged to the Comte and should she be unable to dance anymore, if you understand my meaning, then she will still be taken care of. You, on the other hand, have dreamed of attaining this position all of your life, and now you have it. Please don't throw it away on some foolish act of devotion."

"A foolish act of devotion?" I repeated. I was enraged that he had been listening to our private conversation and that now he had the audacity to scold me for something I had not even done. I was not Carlotta, his _whore_, I would not allow myself to get in that position. "Monsieur Perrot, why do you accuse me of this? If you were closely paying attention to the_private_ conversation that Mirielle and I had, then you would know that I I /I was not the one you should b concerned about. Erik and I have talked of marriage."

"Antoinette, no one has ever met this man, and therefore we have no basis to judge him, however many of the men that frequent this opera house do not keep their mistresses around for long once they are discovered to be carrying his child. For all of the hard work that you have put in over the years, I would hate to see you end up in a similar situation."

"And what of Carlotta?" I seethed. "Did you issue her the same lecture? Were you telling her to be as careful as I?"

He appeared to be stunned and I instantly regretted the words that spilled out of my mouth. "I am deeply regretful of the situation that befell her, but she is doing quite well away from here, and from me." It had saddened him that he could never hold his child, the son that was to bear his name and resemblance, and each day he silently mourned the loss of the infant alone in his room.

I never thought that I would speak to my master and mentor in the disgusting manner in which I just had, and though I would apologize for my outburst, I think my words stung him more deeply than my apologies could ever penetrate. He bid me farewell for the night, and I slowly trudged through the empty echoing halls of the opera house. I changed into my street clothes, and headed out to the shop for some material for a new dress.

I thought about the differentiating opinions of my closest friend and my mentor, and while shopping, thought that maybe it was best if Erik and I slowed down for just a little while.

Erik respected my desire to not be intimate for a while, though he was unsure as to why I felt this way. We engaged in _"dry fucking,"_ as Mirielle called it, a few more times before the clothes actually did start to come off.

I was playfully stroking Erik's ear with my tongue one evening that I had off when he began to trail kisses down my collarbone. "Oh how I hate for women to wear such dreadfully restricting contraptions," he said as he tried to avoid my corset. I laughed at his frustration before he ordered me to turn over.

"Erik, what are you doing?" I asked still giggling.

"Relieving you of a burden, my dear lady," he replied roguishly.

"Erik!" But before I could stop him, he had cut through the corset strings with a concealed pocketknife, and the whalebone fell off in his hands. Turning every shade of red in the color spectrum, I hastened to cover up my breasts that were now vulnerably exposed to a man's view.

"No, dearest, I fought so hard to get them loose, they're so beautiful, let me see them." He captured my lips once more in his and gently pinned my hands above my head on the bed. He opened his eyes and gazed down at them, the nipples swollen from the cold and from the pleasurable caress of his lips. "Mon Dieu, _these_ are what you have been hiding? I forbid you to ever wear clothes again!" I moaned as he took each rosy nipple in his mouth, his tongue tantalizing the sensitive areas there. "Yes, my love, you enjoy this, give yourself up to it, to me."

He pressed gentle kisses down my bare stomach, lean and taught with years of practice, and traveled lower, ever so lower, to the waistline of my petticoat. I gazed at him through half open eyes as he pulled the skirt over my pantalets and down past my ankles. "Oh, Annie, you are so beautiful." He kissed me again on the lips, his erection pressing hard into my thigh, and I began to feel the familiar wetness between my legs. I rocked against him, eager to feel him all over my body, wanting to feel him in the secret spot of my womanhood. "You are so impatient, my dear, let it happen slowly," but I stopped him when I felt him begin to pull down my undergarments.

"Erik, I let you remove my corset, I don't want things to happen too fast. It is a sin that we are even doing this."

"Annie, you want this as much as I do. We won't go too far tonight, but I want to show pleasure that does not require sacrificing your virginity." I did not protest when he continued to pull down my pantalets. Inquisitively, he pressed a finger to me, and I gasped in pleasure at the feeling of something being there.

"Oh, God, Erik, do it again!" I shrieked.

"What is with this sudden change of heart, Antoinette? You were just concerned for your modesty, and now you wish for me to continue with this intended course?"

"Yes, Erik, please, it feels so_good_." He pressed a thick finger again into the entrance of my womanhood, and wiggling it around, began a steady motion of pulling it in and out. I clutched the sheets in my hands, sweating and panting heavily when I suddenly felt something hot and wet in that region. _"It feels like Erik, no, he_ couldn't _have!"_ But when I opened my eyes and looked down, I found his head buried in my lap, and I distinctly felt his tongue probing me from the inside. I screamed with exquisite delight at what he was doing; only vaguely wondering where he acquired this carnal knowledge. I was sitting up on the edge of the bed, Erik on his knees on the floor, and I thrust my fingers into his hair, eager for him to be as close as possible. I called his name over and over, never wanting the sensation to cease, as I felt my release rapidly approaching. When at last it did, I could feel the flood of heat course through my body as though I were submerged in scalding hot water, and as I trembled with the aftermath, Erik stood up, and wiping his mouth, kissed me.

"That, my lovely lady, was your first orgasm."

"That was…incredible," I stammered, still attempting to catch my breath. "But did you get any pleasure from it?"

"Most certainly," he said with a wink. "It was quite a pleasure knowing that I caused that reaction in you, and actually getting to taste you."

My jaw dropped open and my cheeks turned a definitive shade of scarlet. "Erik, how crass of you to admit something like that!"

He laughed openly. "You are such a hypocrite, Annie! My dear, you are entering the world of sexuality, it is time to put aside your childish notion of what lovers do together. You did not seem to be so uptight when I was actually doing it to you."

"I am not uptight," I said pouting. "I am just being…cautious."

"Uh-huh," he said with a raised eyebrow. "Well put your inhibitions aside and come here and kiss me some more."


	10. The Remnants of Innocence Are Lost

_**Annie**_

Our relationship was far from being purely innocent, however I did have my reservations of engaging in that final complete act of passion that had been Biblically stated to be shared by husband and wife. Erik had tried to pressure me into it on a few occasions, but when I made it clear that I was not ready, he halted his advances, complacent in the other methods of gratification in which we partook.

But Erik didn't have to wait too much longer before at last I caved in. Intertwined in his arms, his body half naked and covering mine, I voiced my eagerness to try something new.

"Ok, love," he breathed as he trailed soft kisses around my neck and collarbone. "What does my queen have in mind?"

"Make love to me, Erik," I whispered. "I am ready and I have made you wait long enough."

"Are you sure? You are truly ready?" he asked, his lips hovering just above my own. I nodded and he smiled, kissing me fully as he carefully stripped me of my pantalets and removed his own trousers. He once more positioned himself above me, his hardness nudging the toned skin of my lower belly. "Are you not worried of getting pregnant?"

"When you feel you are ready to…release, pull out. Mirielle said that it was very unlikely, and that she and Samuel have had no problems with that method."

He kissed my lips once more, his manhood resting at my entrance, stirring with the eagerness to break through the virginal barrier that completely separated us. He began to push inside, and I winced with pain, a terrible burning sensation filling my lower abdominal area. I shut my eyes, shameful of ruining this special moment with my weakness, and Erik asked if he should stop. "No, it will subside. It happens to all women with her first time," I said through gritted teeth.

But it didn't stop. With a gasp he broke through my maidenly barrier and tears began to form at the corners of my eyes. Before he could say any more remarks about withdrawing, I nodded for him to continue, and he began to slowly rock into me. I was worried because I was not feeling any of the sensations that the chorus girls described, the heat in the lower belly or even the desire to move my body in time with his. He kept a slow steady rhythm, and despite the pain, it was remarkable to _feel_ him inside me, moving within the walls of my womanhood and stretching apart the muscles that years of ballet training had built up.

"Oh, Annie, you feel incredible," he whispered as he kissed my shoulders and ran his hand through the tangled webs of my hair. I lay there underneath him, trying to gain some amount of pleasure from this trying experience, wanting to cry because I was not sharing in his joy. I had failed him, and if we were ever married, I would fail him as a wife.

Although our lovemaking seemed to last forever, in reality it was only a few minutes before Erik suddenly seized up and I felt a warm gush of liquid coat my insides. "I am sorry it did not last longer," he said as he pulled himself up and came to rest beside me. "I am afraid I am very new to the experiences of being inside of a woman. I am sure next time it will be more pleasurable for us both."

"For us both? Did I not please you?" I knew I would start crying if he was disappointed in me.

"It was beautiful, but I knew that you were in pain, and I felt terrible that I was the cause of it. I tried to be gentle and hold out longer, but all of a sudden, it came upon me." He suddenly remembered that he did not withdraw from me the moment his orgasm came upon him, and he looked upon me in shock. "Annie, you won't get pregnant now, will you?" he asked fretfully.

I was so tired and sore that I was not even bothered. "It could happen but it is unlikely. I only know of one ballerina who became with child her first time, and she was a half wit anyway."

"Oh, Annie, I love you. Will you please stay the night down? I would miss you if you were to leave now," he said as he buried his head into my shoulder.

"Yes, I will stay," I responded as I suppressed a yawn. I stood up on shaky legs, and embarrassingly pointed out to Erik that there was some blood on his faded sheets. He tiredly responded that he would wash them in the morning, and for now just to put a blanket over the spot. I wrinkled my nose at such a suggestion, but also understood that this was the only sheet that he possessed, and that we would be sleeping in cruder arrangements should he launder them now. He lay facing me, the marred side of his face hidden against the pillow, and I curled up against him so that my back was to him. He draped an arm around my midsection, and we both plummeted quickly into the soft void of sleep.

**_Erik _**

I knew that our lovemaking was sloppy, to say the least. We had enjoyed the more clandestine pleasures of the flesh, but this new physical act of love was so different, so much more revered than the other methods of gratification, and I could not help but be disappointed in both our reactions. When I had entered her, it was with great difficulty, and my own sex had throbbed with a little pain as it pushed past the narrow ridges into the vast cavern that would one day develop her children. I felt guilty after that, for taking pleasure in her pain, knowing that she would be aching for a few days, so I attempted to take her as slowly and gently as possible. Her knees were shaking on either side of my hips, but when I looked at her for some reaction that should stop me before I went too far, but she nodded her head for me to continue, and so for a few humiliatingly short minutes, I tried to lose myself in her wet depth. I was so caught up in how I was feeling that I did not realize that I suddenly spurted into her womb what had been building inside of me, and though satisfied for the moment, I hoped that the next time she would garner some satisfaction as well.

We fell asleep together in my bed, and I made sure to lie so that the damaged portion of my face was hidden from view. The best part of the night was to have her sleeping by my side, the backside of her body pressed tightly against my front. I periodically had to untangle her hair from my mouth, but it was nice for once to at least fantasize about waking up next to a woman for the rest of my life.

_**Annie **_

It was difficult getting out of bed the next morning. I roused early, and seeing that Erik was not yet awake, I thought perhaps I would try to fall back asleep for a little while. When an hour passed and still I was conscious, I rose from the bed, grabbing his robe from the wardrobe, and sleepily entered the kitchen to make some breakfast. There was not much food in the pantry, and I could only scrounge up a small meal of bread and a little bit of dried fruit. I balanced the two plates as best I could, and went back into the bedroom to serve Erik his breakfast in bed.

"Wake up, Erik, I gathered some breakfast." He groaned irritably and rolled over, jamming the pillow over his head. I quietly set the tray on the bedside table and yanked the sheets clear off his nude body. Quickly covering the more sensitive parts of his anatomy, he rubbed his eyes with the other hand and asked, "Hey, what's the big deal? It's not morning yet!"

"Erik, it's 6:30 in the morning."

"Bah! That's barely even sunrise!" But he reluctantly gathered the blankets around him and grabbed his pajamas from the armoire. "What did you fix, by the way?"

"There wasn't much to fix. You need to get some groceries soon, Erik, or you will starve."

"I've been busy," he muttered as he broke off a piece of stale crusty bread and shoved it in his mouth.

"Doing what, writing that opera? Erik, I know you love your music, but you can't let your body suffer for it," I said sympathetically.

He pierced me with a cold, penetrating gaze and I removed my hand from his shoulder. "That is what makes music so beautiful, so pure. Do you ever hear of fat, greedy, sloppy composers? Do they work in standard shifts as you do? No. When inspiration calls, you are a slave to it, merely the fingers scratching at the keys or scribbling away at paper. Music gets in your soul, Annie, and you are lucky to come out alive once the magic has flown through you."

Time flitted by, just as it always does. When it was discovered that Mirielle was with child, she and Samuel fled to Sweden to be married, and took up temporary residence. The widow Charlotte de Chagny, Samuel's mother, was horrified to learn that her son had had such sordid relations with a ballet dancer, and all but forbade him his inheritance. Mirielle wrote that they would stay there until Samuel's mother died and he would rightfully return to France to take up the duties that, for the time being, he had relinquished upon his cousin Stefan.

I missed my closest friend and longed to be by her side in her time of need. The pregnancy had been difficult thus far, and it was feared that Mirielle, though in excellent physical condition, would not make it through the delivery. I sent her letters each week, and as her confinement wore on, her letters became more frequent. She wrote of how lovely it was by the seaside, that the salty sea air was refreshing and gave her energy for the long painful birth that was to come. Her neighbors were a young couple by the name of Gustave and Rebecca Daae, and on nights when she was feeling well enough, she and Samuel would have dinner with them. She especially delighted in hearing Gustave play the violin. _"Such magical notes that emanate from such a small instrument. I have tried many times to persuade him to join an orchestra, but he smiles and says he is content to play for his little wife and us." _

Erik had seemingly become even more engrossed in his opera, but when I expressed my fears for his health, he would shun me away and tell me not to be so bothersome. It had been awhile since we made love after our first time, but the second time wasn't as painful, and subsequently each encounter became even more enjoyable. I was grateful that no baby was formed that first night when Erik and I were united, and I figured as long as we abided by the advice Mirielle and the other dancers gave for such matters, things would be fine. I had even second-guessed my dear friend after she confided in me her happy news, but she shyly admitted that both she and Samuel were trying for a baby anyway. "But his mother need not know that!"

Things were going quite well at the opera house as it flourished in these prosperous times, and maintaining my role as prima ballerina for the third year, it seemed as though I would dance in the spotlight for a great number of years to come.

_

* * *

This chapter is a little short, but from now on it will be all new content. Thanks to everyone for sticking with this story, and though I am in the midst of writing Chimera and starting to plan a weddingbites nails from the stress, I will have more time to update. Probably not, but I will try wink_


	11. The Wisdom of Jean

_Thanks to you all for reading and reviewing, and more importantly for sticking by me. You all rock!_

_**

* * *

One Year Later….**_

_**Antoinette**_

I sat at Erik's desk composing a letter to Mirielle as he jotted down some notes for the storyline of hi opera. Mirielle had given Samuel a son whom they named Phillipe, and she was overjoyed with motherhood. _"Oh, Annie, you will have to visit us in Sweden sometime! Our son is just perfect, he is the mirror image of dear Samuel. I am lonely without him, as he has gone back home to Chagny so that he might be with his mother in her illness. It is cruel of me to say, but I hope that bitter, nasty woman dies for forcing her son and I into exile here in Sweden. I want to return to my normal life and be in my home country and closer to you."_ I read the note what seemed to be the fiftieth time, and though I laughed at her humor, I knew how lonely she was. She spoke often of the Daaes. _"How sad to be taken from the only home you have ever known and whisked off to a foreign country with a poor little couple as your only friends."_ It was rather cruel of me, but I secretly hoped that Samuel's mother died too. I dipped the quill into the ink and was scribbling along the parchment when Erik's arms reached around my body, scaring me and causing me to dribble large ink spots on Mirielle's note.

"Erik, look what you made me do! I will have to start all over again!" But he just laughed and spun me around to face him.

"I'm sorry, my love, but I would like a little inspiration for the love scene in my opera," he jested as his lips gently kissed mine.

"Your libido has been insatiable lately, is it something with your diet?" The girls were beginning to whisper things, I was sure, given that I had not spent the night in my bed in three days.

"It has nothing to do with my diet. You are just simply ravishing." He kissed me once more, harder this time, and reached a hand up to cup my left breast.

"Erik, stop that, you're hurting me!"

"I'm sorry, Annie, but I wasn't squeezing that hard," he said defensively.

"It must be from last night then. You were pretty rough." I blushed at the memory of his eager, almost rough, movements over my body into the long hours of the night.

"Perhaps I was a little too strong in my haste to have you. I'm very sorry; I didn't mean to hurt you. I will try to be more gently next time."

"It's alright, Erik. Would you like me to fix you some supper? I don't think you have had a proper meal in awhile, you are so dedicated to that damned opera."

"It isn't just a _damned opera_, it will be the greatest musical masterpiece this century, that is, for anyone who has any taste or true appreciation of music." He continued on about how great his work is, how it compared to the pieces being composed and performed of late, but I paid no attention. I heard this every night, and if I acknowledged it, he would continue to prattle on until I blatantly told him to shut his mouth, to which he would just sulk like rotten child the rest of the night. I made a modest dinner from the meager ingredients that he had, and managed to make a stew with some marginally fresh bread. Erik was appreciative of the meal (as he should, given that he would let himself starve for the sake of his art!) and we settled onto the sofa in front of the fire. I laid against him, my head comfortable resting against his chest, and I felt myself dozing off when suddenly my stomach began to feel queasy. I sat up in quickly, and Erik instantly became alarmed.

"Annie, are you alright? Are you sick, my love?" I could only nod, but that slight movement of my head brought our dinner to the back of my throat, and I rushed to the bathroom, eager to spew into the chamber pot. I made it to the door before the meal gushed from my mouth in a sick ooze at my feet, and horrified, I lurched for the sink to clean it up. But the smell was putrid, and I found myself once more vomiting into the sink, the tears pouring down my face from my body's violent reaction. When my the spasms ceased, I turned around and found Erik on his knees mopping up the mess that I had made. I flushed with embarrassment and began to cry as Erik looked up at me questioningly.

"Annie, dear, are you alright? Here, let me feel your head for a fever." He stood up and removed his gloves, pressing them to my clammy forehead. "Your forehead is wet, but I imagine that is from throwing up. Your head does not feel warm as if you are sick. I don't think it is the food because I feel fine. Is there a virus going around with the dancers?"

"Not that I am aware of. Perhaps I have just been practicing too hard."

"It could also be the change in environment; you don't normally spend this much time down here, nor do you usually sleep down here. I think it best if you retired to the dormitories for the night."

"I think you're right," but I was hesitant to head back on my own should I become victim to the sickness again. Erik took me as far as the dressing room, asking if I would be alright to continue on my own. "I think so," I replied shakily. "I don't feel sick anymore, just weak and tired." He kissed me on the cheek and I headed to my bed, grateful that the ballet rats were away and would not have to answer questions as to my sleeping habits of late.

I awoke in the morning feeling tired and groggy, despite having a substantial night's sleep. My body ached, but I touched my hand to my forehead once more and felt no fever. I dressed myself and headed downstairs to rehearsal, ignoring the petty scandalous conversations the other dancers were discussing.

The first half of rehearsal was for Sergei and I to practice our ensemble dance. Our duet together was rigorous, full of aerial lifts and complex movements, and we were not an hour into the main part of rehearsal when Monsier Perrot halted the session. "Antoinette, may I please speak with you in private?" He escorted me into the narrow hallway, far from Sergei's ears, when he asked if I had started to eat more.

"What kind of question is that? There has been no change in my diet!"

"You seem to be putting weight on around your face and backside, my dear. I notice that Sergei is having slightly more difficulty lifting you than when you started rehearsing this scene three weeks ago."

"I assure you, Monsieur, I have been paying as strict attention to my nutrition as I always have. You know how important this is to me, I would not let sweets get in the way of my success."

"Is there something else you would like to tell me that could cause this sudden increase in weight?" The master's blue eyes pierced mine as he scrutinized my behavior. I had indeed noticed that I had gained about seven pounds of late, and though I had tried to sneak in a few minutes extra practice time daily, the added effort was not helping, as my bottom had indeed become plumper. "Could it be your monthly cycle that has caused you to appear more heavy?" It seemed a little strange that he would mention something so personal, particularly since he was a male, but it was his duty to know the physique of his girls, even the more crude parts of the female anatomy.

It was then that I realized that I had missed my last two courses. While this was not an irregular occurrence given the tremendous strain that we dancers placed on our bodies, combined with weight gain and random spurts of nausea, I could only deduce one rational explanation.

"_Mon dieu! Merde!"_ I whispered. My worst fears has come true. M. Perrot could see the terror in my eyes, and he swiftly put his arms around my chest.

"It will be alright, Annie," he said softly. It was the first time he had addressed me not by full name. He had said it an effort to be my friend, to comfort me on a closer level than a student and instructor, but if offered me no warmth. My dreams would be shattered. I had been the principle dancer, La Bontecou, but my days were numbered due to the growth that existed within my taut abdomen. I stared down at my stomach in horror as I envisioned the flatness slowly evolving into an unsightly bulge that would cost me my career and end the happiness I had known for so long. "How long, ma cheri?" Monsieur Perrot asked.

"At least two months," I replied quietly.

"I am afraid that I will have to relinquish the role of Isadora to someone else, Marie-Elisabeth perhaps. How is that you did not know sooner, Annie?"

"I probably did, I just chose to ignore it. Mirielle said that it could not happen this way, that I could have prevented it, and for so long, I did," I sobbed. Tears had started to flow freely now that I knew for sure my career would end. Who would hire a dancer with maternity fat and stretch marks?

"Life has a way of happening no matter what the circumstances. Have faith, my dear. I cannot have you dance and risk your health, but once this child is born, I promise I will help you in any way that I can. You have worked so hard, Antoinette, you are like a daughter to me."

"Thank you, Monsieur."

"Please, you may call me Jean. Not in rehearsals, of course, but now that our relationship has progressed to another level, you may consider me a friend. I will protect you from the gossip of those tarts as best I can, but I suggest you seek refuge with the child's father for the time being."

"Oh my God, I will have to tell Erik! What will he say? It's not what he says that I am afraid of…. He cannot handle this baby! He can't even take care of himself! What mess have we gotten ourselves into? He will leave me! He will leave me for his music and I will have to take care of this child on my own!"

"Mon-, I mean, Jean, may I ask a question of a more personal nature?"

"Of course."

"How did Carlotta tell you? What did she feel? How did she tell you? I am terrified of what Erik will say."

He excused himself for the moment as he realized that Sergei was still awaiting our return. "I told him that you were ill and unable to continue your lessons today. Come, let us go to my office and we can speak with the comfort of knowing our words will be in private."

I felt anxious as we left the open and airy space of the practice room and headed down the dark, windowless corridors to his office/apartment. I wrapped my arms around myself, attempting to ignore the rage at my insolence and at this innocent baby that was quietly growing with each passing day. Jean unlocked the door to his apartment, and bid me to enter. I sat down on the worn leather chair, politely refusing an offer of tea.

"Carlotta was a special woman, and though I do miss her dearly, I know that she does not return the sentiment. She was smart and conniving, willing to sleep her way into the ranks to make herself a star. I was foolish enough to fall for her stunning looks and coquettish charms. Though she was an adult when she came to me the first time, and all subsequent times after that, she was essentially a child still, playing a strategy game that she knew she would win. The chips were not in her favor, as you would, and we know the outcome of the story from there. She found out and came to me angrily, flying in a rage and throwing things at me. I myself was shocked, though not too entirely surprised, but I was also strangely happy. My devotion to this ballet corps has prevented me from a wife and family of my own, and this appeared to be my opportunity to have both. But Carlotta did not see that at all. She told me that I had forced her into it, that I had done it to purposely ruin her career and force her into the subservient role of my wife. I did ask if she would be my wife after that, I am not so unchivalrous as to throw her on the street with my bastard, but she refused. I did love her, with all of my heart, but she thought I had manipulated her and sullied her reputation."

"She had done a fine bit of that herself," I reasoned.

Jean simply nodded and gazed sadly at the floor. "I knew she had tried to rid herself of him, and that was probably why he did not last longer than a few days. My poor son, the son I never knew but loved all the same. I have no idea of her whereabouts now, and though I suppose I would like to see her again, I don't know if my broken heart could stand it. I certainly hope that your Erik will be kind and a gentleman to finally marry you now."

"I hope so too," I said dejectedly. I left Jean's office with a small comfort knowing that I could seek his advice, but doubly pained in that I did not have Mirielle with me for companionship, and knowing that Erik's reaction would be unpleasant and unpredictable, to say the least.


	12. Nuptuals

_**Erik**_

I became concerned for Annie's health when she failed to come down to my home, or even attempt to make contact with me, for three days. I noticed that she was also absent from rehearsal and taking precautions so as not to be discovered, I ventured to the dormitories while the ballerinas were practicing. To my dismay, I found that Annie was nowhere to be seen within the cramped quarters, leading me to the conclusion that she must be in the infirmary.

I rushed down the creaky wooden steps, not giving a damn if anyone saw me, and brusquely headed down the corridor. The sick ward had been sealed off with heavy wooden doors to prevent the spread of infection, but they were unlocked and I hastily pushed my way through. As I entered, I was blinded by sunlight and the glaring sterile whiteness of the room. I squinted my eyes, but managed to see that Annie was sitting up in bed, apparently healthy. I strode towards her, simply relieved that she was no longer violently ill, but she seemed apprehensive, downright scared, that I was suddenly there.

"Annie, my love, you are looking so much better now. Has the nurse diagnosed your ailment?" She just nodded, casting her eyes on the faded blanket that she was wringing with her hands. "I would have thought that you would have been happier to see me. Are you contagious, is that why you are worried? I can assure you that I have been in excellent health and that I will be fine," but again Annie said nothing. "Annie, I have been all over this damned opera house looking for you, risking being seen by everyone, the least you can do is say something to me!"

"You will be mad," she choked out.

"Mad, why would I be mad, ma cherie?"

"Because something bad has happened; I've ruined my career," she replied as tears formed in her eyes.

"Why is that, have you hurt yourself? If that bastard Sergei dropped you-."

"I am with child, Erik."

I stared blankly at her as it did not sink in all at once. In truth it didn't fully start to sink in until her belly began to blossom, but I was frozen not only by the meaning of her words, but the ice that had filled them.

"How?" I stuttered at last. She shot me a vile, incredulous look, and I shrank back with guilt. "How long?"

"Two months, at least. I asked the nurse if anything could be done to rid myself of it, but she said that she had nothing. She said that her being a Catholic woman, she would not stand any actions like that, and that it would be on my conscience if I sought some of _those drugs_ elsewhere."

Again I was rendered speechless, capable only of thinking how ruined our lives would become upon being burdened with a child. I supposed that if we were truly wanting to rid ourselves of the babe we could ship it off to an orphanage upon birth, but I could not abandon this child as my mother had abandoned me.

"What are we going to do? I will not be able to work and you do not have a means of income," she said, tears coating her eyelashes.

"I suppose the honorable thing to do is to marry you. I cannot sully your reputation because of my lust, and I am, above all else, a gentleman."

I was pleased to see Annie smile and nod her head in agreement. "I am thoroughly embarrassed, however, as I am unable to provide you with a proper wedding ring at this time. I do have a ring that I took from my mother's jewelry box as a keepsake. You can wear that until you acquire the proper funds with which to buy a deliciously gaudy diamond." Annie beamed with pride and laughed, beckoning me closer for a kiss.

"So this is the elusive suitor and father-to-be?" I whipped around, started at the sudden intrusion, and found a lean, slightly graying man grinning at me. "You must be Erik whom I have heard much about. I am Jean Perrot, the ballet master here at the Garnier."

I took his outstretched hand in order to appear friendly, though I did not smile or warm to his company.

"I am so pleased that you two have finally become acquainted; people were starting to think of you as a phantom!" Annie joked. Jean laughed, though I did not find her comment to be particularly amusing.

"Do you see my face, Monsieur?" I asked bitterly.

Jean stopped laughing and quickly sobered at my menacing tone. "No, I do not, it is mostly covered by your mask."

"Indeed, it is, and were you to see me remove it, you would think worse than a mysterious apparition. I am a monster, unworthy of anything, especially Annie's love. I am certainly not fit to be a father."

The ballet instructor put his arm on my shoulder and I instinctively jumped back a bit. "Children come at the most unexpected and inconvenient times in our lives. The first step is to marry Antoinette so that your child is not deemed a bastard. While she can no longer dance, she can earn her means in the costume shop until she begins her confinement. Do you have an useful trades by which you can procure a living?"

"I will get by," I stated simply, and Jean just shook his head.

"How soon should we get married, Jean?" Annie asked timidly.

"I will make the arrangements, dearest. I believe the wedding can take place in a few day's time, but is there any place in particular that you wish to be wed?"

"I thought the little chapel here might be nice, since this is where I have grown up," she offered.

"In the dead of night, so no one would see us," I replied quickly.

"Oh, how dreadfully romantic!" Annie practically squealed and I could not help but smile at her uncharacteristic display of female excitement.

"So it will be done," Jean continued. "Have you a suitable dress, Annie?"

Her face fell visibly. "Nothing suitable for a wedding, I am afraid."

"I'm sure we have something in costume storage. We can browse through the items later and see what suits you." Jean left the room after discussing what other arrangements were to be made in the meantime, and Annie and I found ourselves alone for the moment.

"This is going to be so great, Erik! At last we will be united before God, no longer living in sin and shame. Life is going to be so wonderful, and I know I will be a good wife to you." She reached for a lead pencil and notepad on her side table, and began scribbling feverish notes and ideas of what would need to be done for our hasty marriage. However, I could scarcely share her enthusiasm as I contemplated what sort of husband I would be.

"_How could we possibly live together? I am solitary, antisocial, not to mention hardly a father figure. What if she becomes pregnant again?"_ Annie saw my panicked expression and asked what was the matter, but I told her that I was just thinking of the future, which was true, as she rambled on. _"I can't scare myself now. After all, I do love Annie with all of my heart, and we will just have to take extra care not to make another baby."_

Annie remained in the hospital wing for a few more days until Jean Perrot was able to procure a priest for our ceremony. In the meantime, Annie's few worldly possessions were packed up from the dormitory and transported to my subterranean labyrinth. The ballerinas came to visit her after their mast made up a lie about Annie's illness and departure, and she said her goodbyes, saying that she hoped to return soon.

Our night finally arrived, and I dressed myself in the fine suit that Annie herself had stitched. I rarely looked at myself in the mirror, but this night I thought myself rather handsome, despite the mask, as I pinned my navy cravat and fastened my gold cufflinks. I realized that I was smiling, only now acknowledging that I would shortly become a husband to a woman that I adored, and in months time, a father as well. I knew that Annie would be a stunning bride, and I whistled happily to myself as I quickened my pace up the chipping stone steps.

I emerged from the faux panel nearby the chapel, catching the faint glimmering shadow play of candlelight and water dancing on the wall. I stepped through the stone archway and beheld a cherub-faced priest clutching the sacred Book and smiling warmly. I suppose I would have returned the facial gesture if I believed the farcical religion of my childhood, but I did acknowledge him with a nod.

"Are you ready for God to join Antoinette and yourself in this blessed union?" he asked eagerly.

"_Of course I am ready, you imbecile, I would not do it otherwise!"_ I instantly regretted my harsh thoughts toward the kindly wedding officiator. "Annie is a special woman, I feel that I am both honored and blessed to have her accept me as her husband." _"I am just nervous, nervous and anxious, for this to be done with."_ Thought I was elated a short while earlier, the gravity and permanence of the situation crashed into my brain. _"Annie and I could live below the opera house, but it would be unfair to expect an innocent baby to remain down there in the dark and dampness, not to mention unhealthy for their developing body. I have no way of earning a living, how can I possibly support a family!"_

It was at that moment that my Annie entered the small chapel, Jean Perrot, her surrogate father, entwining his left arm with her right. She looked radiant, despite the apparent shabbiness of her gown, and she smiled at me from beneath the modesty of her wedding veil. I could not take my eyes off the site of her slowly gliding towards me and my gaze followed her as she came to stop beside me, taking her delicate clammy hand within mine. She heaved a sigh of contentment, and we listened to the mass amidst our distracted thoughts, counting the seconds until our vows would be spoken.

At last the time came for us to recite them, and I had to consciously think of every word that I was repeating in my state of nervousness. Annie did the same, albeit with less trembling and more confidence, and I lifted the blusher to kiss her.

Her eyes were filling with tears of joy and she beamed proudly at me. "Say you'll share with me, Erik, one love and one lifetime."

"I will," I whispered, kissing her lightly on her quivering lips.

"I pronounce thee man and wife, Monsieur Erik and Madame Antoinette Giry."

_

* * *

I know, I stole part of their vow from All I Ask of You__, but that just makes it hurt Erik more when he hears Christine say it to Raoul. I'm sorry about the duration between updates, I've been distracted with other things lately. Thank you for reading._All I Ask of You 


	13. Anxieties of Marriage

_**Antoinette**_

The ceremony itself was a brief, passionate affair that was like something out of a woman's romance novel. I was now Madame Antoinette Giry, former prima ballerina and now newlywed wife and future mother. It was all so exciting for a woman of nineteen, ready to embark on a brand new adventure in life and having finally achieved the goals that she had set for herself. Erik linked his arm through mine as Jean kissed me on the cheek when we departed from the chapel. My husband opened the hidden wall panel and grabbing a candle, ushered me through the narrow stairwell. I waited for him on the narrow ledge so that he might lead the way and I found the gondola, laced with white ribbons, tethered to the shoreline.

"Oh Erik, this is so romantic, and what a thoughtful gesture to lace the ribbons! I think this is much better than a full ceremony," I gushed.

He smiled and held onto my bouquet as I carefully stepped into the boat. "It is something small, but I thought you might like it. I am sorry that I could not lead you through horseback down here, but Caesar has a fear of deep water," he joked. He climbed in behind me and pushed away from the shore using the long pole.

As we rowed closer to his home, I realized that this would now be my home as well. It was a little…primitive, to be sure, but I thought that I could add some feminine detailing and make it seem more habitable. The truth was that I had Erik, my love, and I felt that alone was enough to exist with. Perhaps in time we could move into a small home or estate in the country with our child and make a real living. I removed my white lace glove and trailed my fingers lightly across the surface of the black water, allowing my mind to glide along with the movements of the gondola.

I was snapped out of my reverie with a _thud_ when I realized that we had already come ashore. "Come, love, are you going to spend our wedding night in that damn boat? I don't think I will be able to maneuver very well in such an awkward space." He helped me out of the boat once more and pulled me into a passionate embrace. I could feel in his kiss the urgent need for him to officially make us man and wife and he was urgently tugging at the sash and buttons on the back of my dress.

"Erik, we are newly married. This will be the only wedding night we will have! Are you going to undress me and take me right here on the rocks?" I pouted.

He grinned mightily. "Oh, but I would. I would have stopped the boat and taken you in the middle of the lake if I wasn't worried about us capsizing and drowning."

"Drowning? That is such a morbid thought to have on the eve of our wedding!"

"Ah, but I am a morbid man, Annie. Now enough chatter, I want to fully utilize my rights as a husband."

* * *

I awoke late in the morning, reluctant, tired and very naked, and noticed that Erik was no longer slumbering beside me. I glanced at the clock in the corner of the room and saw that it was nearly noon! _"I don't think I have _ever_ slept in this late! What will Monsieur Perrot think?"_ And then I realized exactly what had happened. It was not the case where I was not myself the night previous during the ceremony; it just seemed surreal that it had actually come true. I would no longer be going to dance practices, I would no longer chatter with the other ballerinas and what hurt the most was that I would no longer be the center of attention on stage, receiving flowers and attention from young suitors wishing to make me their mistress. The reality was that I was lying in my marital bed carrying the child of a reclusive composer who refused to assimilate into society. _"What have I done? Where will we live? I cannot raise a baby this far below ground, the child will surely become sick! Erik does not even seem like he _wants_ a baby! Perhaps Erik and I can join Mirielle and Samuel in Sweden. Oh, what will she think when I write her to tell what I have gone and done!"_

At that point Erik emerged from the bathroom, clad only in trousers, toweling his wet locks. "My bride, she is awake!" he laughed happily as he pounced on the bed next to me. He discarded the towel and wrapped his arms around me so that I was below him. "Oh Annie, I swear I am the happiest man alive right now! Last night was pure magic, and, well, the events of early morning were as well," he said lustfully. He crushed his lips to mine and I could feel down below just what he had in mind for the day.

"Erik, I-"

"No, don't say anything," he whispered. He unbuckled his trousers, and without even caring to remove them, plunged into me. Something had changed in him, his brooding darkness and self-loathing had disappeared for the time being, and he was as full of life as any other man of seventeen. His unhappiness had drained from him and I actually laughed aloud despite myself.

"What is so funny, Madame?" he panted above me.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing," I giggled. "I am just so happy and I can see that you are too."

"I must admit that I am quite exhilarated at the moment." I kissed him and grabbed his face with both hands as I forcefully met his thrusts with my own. He closed his eyes and spent the rest of the morning showing me just how much I was loved.

_**

* * *

Erik**_

I had been dreaming, but they were not the dreams of a happy husband bathing in the afterglow of lovemaking. I was recalling the memories of my mother, of her cruelty and beatings, when as a young boy of five, I had done nothing but search for her love.

"_Erik, what do you think you are doing? You are tearing the house apart."_

"_I am looking for something. I lost it and I want it back," the boy cried._

"_Haven't I told you to keep better care of your things?" scolded the young woman. "What have you gone and lost?"  
_

"_You will be mad, mama, it is very important and it means a lot to me. Please don't spank me."_

"_If it is important you can be assured that you will be punished accordingly. If it is so dear to you, perhaps you should put it away like the rest of your things. Now tell me what you have gone and lost."_

"_Your love, mama."_

I bolted awake at the moment that my mother came to slap me. I had hoped that with the presence of a wife, my mind would be at ease and cease these horrifying night tremors that had plagued me for so long, but it seemed that it would be some time if they were to end at all. My mother, Madeleine Giry, had been as cruel and unloving as she was beautiful and I feared that my psyche would never overcome the trauma I had suffered for nine years in her presence. The sheets were tangled around my legs and my trousers clung to me with sweat. I rubbed my face in my hands, trying to physically rub away the memory of the visions.

I took a minute to compose myself and get back to the present, and as I stood I could smell a delicious meal that Annie was preparing. Figuring it would be appropriate if I attended this meal actually wearing clothes. I yanked on a clean white shirt and a pair of black cotton pants, noting that I needed to move down a few notches on my belt. _"I must be losing weight again, these are too loose. Perhaps Annie's regular schedule of meals will fatten me up a bit."_ I carefully ran a comb through my thick black hair and emerged from the bedroom with a stretch.

Annie was in front of the cook top with a pan in one hand and a book in the other. She set it on the stove and bent down to check the bread baking in the oven. I smiled to myself and chose that opportunity to make my presence known.

"Good evening, sweetheart, dinner smells delicious," I hummed in her ear, causing her to emit a startled shriek.

"Erik, don't do that when I am cooking dinner," she chastised. "One of us could be burned. Besides, I need to pay attention to what I am doing, I am trying to learn a new recipe."

"They have books for this?" I asked as I thumbed through the pages. "I thought women were supposed to store all of this information in their head. Where did you find this?"

"I found it in the kitchen library," she snapped as she snatched the book from my grasp. "And I did not have a mother so I had to teach myself how to cook. I borrowed this from the kitchen and it does not seem to be missed."

"I'm sorry, Annie, I just wasn't thinking. What has gotten into you anyway, you were so much happier earlier?"

"Oh, smart thing to say, Erik! I am frustrated, my belly aches, I feel nauseous, I am tired and most of all I am _sore_, no thanks to you!" She slammed the pan that contained potatoes and yams down on the countertop and began to cry. "Erik, I am so on edge and I am tired all the time. Today is our first day being married and I am miserable and I know that I will be getting worse before I get any better! I can't do anything right." She leaned into me then, burying her tear-soaked face into my shoulder, and not knowing what to do, I simply held her head and stroked her hair.

"Annie, it's alright. It is a big change for the both of us, and it is only natural that it will take time for us to get used to living together. You are my wife and no matter what, I love you. Please try not to be upset, I understand that it is hard for you now. I will help you with the rest of dinner, love, and then we can have a nice quiet evening by the fireside, does that sound nice?" She looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes and nodded, and I could not help but smile at how adorably helpless she appeared to me. It felt good to have a wife, like I was now a man and I had a true purpose. I would have a family, as every man dreamed of one day having, and I knew that despite my face, I had achieved a goal of somewhat normalcy.

Annie had made a delicious seafood dish accompanied with some vegetables that I had in dry storage. I had hardly ever made a real meal for myself, and it was only when Annie cooked for me that the food I consumed could be considered nutritious. Our meal was small but filling, and I was flattered that she had thought to put so much effort into the presentation of our first married dinner. She had scraped the wax off two crystal candle handles and placed them at either end of the small oak table that I had made myself. In the absence of fresh flowers, she took a third candlestick, a longer one, and placed it in the middle as a centerpiece. _"I will make this a proper dinner table, just give me some time,"_ she had said. I knew that most men probably didn't consider table arrangement as much as I did, but I did not have other worldly distractions to take away attention from my beloved.

After dinner we sat by the fireplace and I read to her from an old storybook that had somehow made its way into my possession. As I was reading, I would see her periodically glance at her flat abdomen with wonder and endearment, and though I was still very hesitant about having this child, it pleased me greatly to see how happy it made Annie. I knew that she would make a wonderful mother, and I only hoped that I could provide the proper care for both of them.


	14. A Wonderful Burden

_A/N: Hello everyone who is still reading this! I'm sorry that this was on hiatus for so long, but I didn't really know what to do with it. I knew that it needed improving and I wasn't sure how to go about doing it before I realized that my biggest issue was that I just kind of skimmed the surface and didn't go into enough detail. So, from here on I am going to try not to skip around so much. Reviews would be very helpful in this instance._

_I believe that this is shorter than the other chapters, but I don't think they will be as long now as they have been because of time. _

_Thanks to everyone who has kept this on their story alerts. I have a life and am also writing two other stories with sequels planned for each of them, but no matter what I won't forget this one. Just be patient. Thanks!_

* * *

_**Antoinette** _

Erik and I had only a few short days solely to ourselves before I assumed my new occupation as a seamstress. Though I had never before lived a lavish lifestyle, the reduction in salary was greatly disappointing, particularly since I now had added financial obligations.

I would rise each morning an hour later than when I had ballet rehearsals, but the hours were still long as I sat at my cramped work station, untangling thread from the sewing machine and flexing cramped fingers. Combined with the fact that I was two months along and still plagued with moderate bouts of nausea, there were quite a few nights where my poor husband new better to leave me in peace.

As far as domesticity was concerned, things were going smoothly with Erik and I. As I worked each day, he spent his time hastily preparing a nursery for the arrival of our baby. He had only been half finished with the completion of the kitchen when he discovered the news of my pregnancy and immediately after leaving my hospital bed he set to work scribbling sketches for the room. There would be no embellished touches to the room as we knew that it would not be safe for a baby to live in such a damp environment, but we also did not have the money to rent a flat either.

On this day I'd had a particularly difficult morning filled with painful spells of illness, and then in the afternoon I worked myself to the point of exhaustion for the upcoming production of _L'amour Tendre_. It was so hard to see Marie-Elisabeth dance the role of Isadora knowing that no one would ever come to see a fat pregnant woman waddle around the stage.

I came home and collapsed on the sofa, certain that my eyes could not stay open a minute longer. I hadn't detected it when I walked in but now I suddenly smelled a delicious aroma of seasoned chicken cooked with some other vegetables. I had to smile for the wonderfully thoughtful husband that I had.

"Bon jour, mi amore," he whispered into my hair.

"Erik, where did you come from? You startled me!"

"I came from the nursery. Please, I have prepared a special meal for you. I know you must be very tired, my pretty little wife."

"You won't be able to call me little for much longer," I joked. He helped me from my lounging position and escorted me to the nursery. I already felt more at ease as I felt his warm hand gently placed on my back, and I followed him and the savory scent to the baby's room.

"Erik, why're we-" I began to say but the words halted when I stepped over the threshold of the nursery.

The room was not yet complete, but the work that had been done was astounding. I had not been in here for a week because I was so busy at the shop and maintaining the rest of the home.

The walls were smooth, as if they were cut from flat slate, and were just about ready to be painted. There was a hollow alcove on one side with a seat ledge so that I might cradle or read to the child. In the middle of the room sat two kitchen chairs around a slab covered with a sheet, and the delicious meal that I could smell when I arrived home was in the center of it.

"I'm sorry there is no wine, cherie. I did not want to take risks with the baby," he murmured as he lovingly wrapped his arms around me.

"It couldn't be more perfect," I said, my voice reduced to an awe-struck whisper. He came from behind me and pulled the chair out in a gentlemanly fashion. It scraped across the floor, creating a hideous screech, and he seemed embarrassed at his uncharacteristic clumsiness.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt your ears," he flushed.

"That's alright, it still looks lovely. Besides, you're adorable when your face gets all red like that." This caused his cheeks to burn even brighter and he quietly sat opposite me. He asked how my day had gone, though I knew he secretly watched me at times during the day, and I told him of my sadness over the loss of the role.

"Marie-Elisabeth is still very nice to me, but it's just so hard to not be dancing anymore." I'm sure he noticed when I glanced forlornly at my stomach, as if my child was responsible for creating itself and ruining my career. "I have never done such extensive sewing before, though I am very grateful that I was still given the opportunity to work."

"You will get through it," he said simply.

Though we never vocalized it, each of us had pondered a method of forcing the child from my body. I couldn't think of it as murder, but I knew that's exactly what it would be.

"_I hate this child and I love this child. I can't blame it for ending my career for it was our carelessness that brought it into being. It's still murder no matter how you try to rationalize it."_

I pushed the thought from my mind and resumed my recollection of the day to Erik. He listened patiently and comforted me as best as possible regarding my fears in my new position.

"You are already established in this theatre," he offered kindly. "You are well-respected and have friends here. Should you struggle with a project, the staff will be more likely to assist you and be cordial while doing so."

"Yes, I know…."

"You don't sound satisfied."

"I'm just worried. I don't know how long I'll be able to work; I've been feeling rather poorly lately. I don't know how to afford this baby."

"Babies are born each day and to people with less financial means are able to survive. I think you are being too hard on yourself, dear."

"It's such a change. I never took for granted the fact that I could dance, knowing that within ten years I would be out of shape and unfit with age. But the stark contrast in salaries is very disheartening. I work very hard, just with my hands, not with my feet."

"You are disposable, most women can sew," he stated matter-of-factly. "You should feel privileged."

"That's _not_ what I wanted to hear!"

_**Erik**_

We had been married only a few weeks and already I was feeling smaller and smaller each day. I would try to help her through her issues, but she'd snap at me when I'd offer advice. She would appreciate the small kisses and touches we exchanged, but if I tried to initiate anything further, she'd become angry.

"_Erik, I am growing fat and working twelve hours a day! Can we have _one_ night where you're not thinking of sex?"_

Is this what marriage was about, this nitpicking? Could it be because she is with child? Could it be because I have lived alone for so long?

I was a little hurt after her remark when I merely pointed out that she was special to have her job when there were so many other women who were in fact better qualified.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, Annie. You are a smart woman and you are doing the right thing," I empathized.

"How am I smart?" she sniffled. "I ruined my career by polluting my body. I always criticized the other girls for doing this, and now I am nothing but a hypocrite!"

I felt very uncomfortable when she burst into tears. I had consoled her numerous times before, but this situation was entirely different from altercations with Carlotta, snobby dancers and injuries. How do you alleviate the pain when someone's life is practically ruined?

I didn't know how she'd react, but I took a risk and said it anyway. "They had foolishly gambled as mere mistresses to wealthy patrons. You still have your reputation because you're married and you have a husband at your side."

The smile I received through glistening tears assured me that I had said the right thing.

--------------------------------

Annie insisted on clearing away the dishes because I had been the one to cook. "Perhaps I should surrender the roles of cook and house keeper to you," she chuckled.

If it wasn't for the fact that I despised society, I'm sure I would have been insulted by her remark. As it was, I was quite content to stay behind and work on the progression of our home or on my half-finished opera. If I could discover a way for me to make a living by never having contact with people, I would pursue that interest immediately. I had given thought to careers in freelance architecture or musical composition before I had settled down with Annie, but up until now I had been satisfied enough to live on the fringes of poverty.

But despite her stress, I could see that Annie seemed to genuinely enjoy being the mistress of her own home. She softly hummed as she removed the dishes from the table and bundled up the table cloth to be washed. Tossing the white fabric into the washing tub, she heaved a heavy sigh and sank down onto a chair, tossing her head back with a look of fatigue.

I strode towards her with a playful smirk on my face. "So tired just from clearing the table? I had not realized that removing dishes was such an arduous task." She peered back at me with a strong expression of indignation and I laughed out loud as I walked behind her and began to massage her slumped shoulders.

"That feels so good, don't ever stop," she moaned.

"But if I don't stop how will there be time for other things?" I remarked with a hint of seduction.

"You are such a man, always thinking with your… _appendage_ and little else."

"Who do you take me for, Antoinette?" I asked with mock offense "Do you think that you are nothing to me but a pretty body that is meant solely to lie on her back?"

"No, but-"

"That's right. I quite it enjoy it when you are on top of me for a change." She smacked me hard on the arm but had a bright smile on her face, so I knew that though she was tired, she at least maintained a sense of humor.

"I am quite fatigued, though. I have worked all day, plus this baby must be doing some odd things to my body to make me feel so off balance."

"My beautiful Annie, my lovely wife, working herself so hard and yet not apt to complaining about the stresses of her day. You are so tired, my dear, let me help you to bed." She glared at me as if scrutinizing the meaning behind my words and what hidden meanings could be laced within. "Don't look at me like that, I did not mean I was going to expect you to make love to me! Get some rest for yourself and your wonderful burden."


End file.
